


A Long Way Home

by heartsdesire456



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Compliant, Angst, Clint Plays The Piano, Fake Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Lies, M/M, Married Couple, Multi, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Past Mind Control, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 20:54:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4452014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heartsdesire456/pseuds/heartsdesire456
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nobody knows Clint is mourning his dead husband until said husband comes back after the Avengers take Bucky Barnes into their custody.</p>
<p>
  <i>“Hey Steve?” Steve stopped at the door. “For what it’s worth, I really hope you get him back.” He shook his head. “He’s alive out there. As long as you’re both breathing, anything can happen. Don’t give up on him.”</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>Clint turned back to the keys and started playing. “This one’s for you, Phil. Hope you can hear it,” he said, fingers dancing across the keys as he started one last song.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>An undisclosed number of hundreds of miles away, Phil put a hand over his mouth as he couldn’t help but reach out with his other hand and touch the screen. He picked up his drink and took a sip before rubbing a hand over his face, trying to pretend the feeling in his throat was only from the alcohol as he watched and listened to the feed he had sweet-talked JARVIS into letting him tap into a long time ago.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>He watched Clint finish playing and just sit there for a moment. His lip trembled before he swallowed and raised his glass. </i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>“Happy anniversary, Clint.”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Long Way Home

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic a REALLY Long time ago. I just decided to finish it tonight because I HAVE SO MANY WIPS!

Clint had never felt less like celebrating than he did the night of the party Tony insisted on throwing to celebrate their latest victory. Saving the world was great and all, but he’d picked the last day Clint felt like celebrating anything, because the world had been saved, but not everybody had been.

It hurt more on that specific day than any other, and that happened to be the day Tony picked.

He hadn’t meant to get roped into playing the piano for the others, but Natasha had mentioned that he was better than Tony and Tony became personally offended. Somehow it had ended in Tony playing a piece that was clearly something he’d been taught as a child, and it was impressive, but his playing was mechanical. When it came Clint’s turn, he settled and started playing some of his favorite songs to sing, and when he started playing – minus the singing - the reactions were varied from smug (Natasha) to shocked (most everybody else) to, “Hey, I know that song!” (Steve)

“That song is from the thirties,” Steve said, looking surprised. “That one was from a movie I saw.”

Clint nodded. “Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.” He smiled, looking down at his hands as he continued playing. “Learned a lot of songs from old movies when I learned to play the piano.”

The party continued on after Tony and Clint stopped, but Clint kept eyeing the piano. He hadn’t played in a long time and now that he’d had a taste, a part of him wanted to play more. It wasn’t until the others had all called it a night that he came back, once all the lights were out and most people were asleep throughout the tower, and settled at the piano again.

He didn’t know how long he’d been playing when, in the middle of singing and playing, someone spoke. “That song is always comforting to me.”

Clint smiled in amusement. “I didn’t take you for a romantic, Cap,” he said, looking up as Steve came to lean against the piano. _“It's still the same old story. A fight for love and glory. A case of do or die. The world will always welcome lover as time goes by,_ ” he finished singing.

Steve eyed him curiously. “Can’t sleep, huh?”

“Could say the same about you,” Clint said, weariness pulling at his defenses. 

Steve shook his head, looking out to the window. “I don’t sleep much ever. Came to get a drink and heard you playing and singing. You have a nice voice. I didn’t know you could sing.”

Clint swallowed a wave of sadness as he trained his eyes on the keys. “The last time I sang in front of people was at my wedding,” he admitted. Normally he would never let someone in, but something about the late night, the few drinks he’d had, the sadness tearing at him, and the fact that he knew Steve had to have just as many demons as him made it easier to just be honest.

“I didn’t know you were married,” Steve said in surprise.

Clint bit his lip then looked up at Steve with a sad smile. “Today would’ve been our five year anniversary,” he all but whispered, and he watched Steve’s eyes widen with realization.

“Oh God,” he said, and Clint nodded. “When did it happen? We met three years ago and I never knew you lost someone.”

Clint shook his head bitterly. “Let’s just say Loki knew what he was doing.”

Steve tilted his head. “Agent Coulson?” Clint nodded. “Oh. I didn’t know you were-“

“Queer?” 

“Grieving.”

Clint sighed. “I’ve been grieving most my life, it seems like,” he muttered weakly. “Phil was just…” He trailed off, smiling down at his hand. “The last straw, I think. I’ve lost so much. So much,” he muttered hoarsely. “But Phil was what made it all better, you know?” He looked up at Steve with a sad smile. “No matter how bad things ever got, Phil was always- always there. Long time before we got married, long time before we were a couple, he was just always there.” He sniffled, looking away. “He was around when I first joined SHIELD. And he wasn’t my handler for a few years, but when I got to him, it wasn’t like it always had been. Even when I first joined SHIELD, there was this sense of ‘you’re here to do a job’, so if shit happened, they only did what they had to do legally. But when I got to Phil, if I had a problem, he’d hunt me down and make sure it was okay.” He laughed. “He was like that for everybody. If you worked for Phil Coulson, you knew he had your back. He valued people. He was just- just a good man.” He laughed. “Sorry if I’m freaking you out. Can’t imagine even with an open mind it’s not still weird to hear about this shit.”

Steve gave him an amused look. “What, you think queerness is a new invention?” He chuckled. “Fuck, Clint, do you know what I’d have given to have the option of marrying the man I loved?” he asked, and Clint’s fingers slipped on the keys as he jerked his head up. Steve raised an eyebrow. “Natasha hasn’t mentioned that Bucky and I were lovers?”

“Holy shit, no she has not,” Clint said in surprise. “Fuck, is that why you-“

“Won’t let anybody hurt him to bring him in?” Steve asked, nodding. “The way it looks, he’s been hurt more than any of us could imagine for a really long time. If he wants to keep running, he can run until he can’t no more. I’m not letting a soul hurt him just to bring him in. Either he’ll make the choice to come in peacefully, or he’ll keep running.” He smiled sadly. “Either way. He’s free of the torture they’ve put him through for all that time I was asleep.”

Clint nodded sadly. “You still love ‘em?”

“With every breath in my body,” Steve answered without hesitation. 

Clint swallowed, starting one of Phil’s favorite songs. “Does it ever stop hurting?” he asked weakly.

Steve shrugged. “I have no idea. To me, Bucky was dead about two years or so. You’ve got more experience than I do.” He smiled sadly. “I don’t know if it does, though. My mother… she was a widow. My whole life, actually,” he added. “My father died two months before I was born. Fighting in France.” He looked at his hands. “I don’t know if she ever got over that, but she lived another twenty-one years without him and didn’t ever seem to resent that. She seemed happy with our life, in spite of all the shit she faced trying to raise a sickly son alone.” Steve smiled sadly. “I think that… after a point, you stop hurting so bad, because you start remembering how lucky you were to have love at all. It might always hurt, but you remember how good it was and know it was worth how bad it hurt when it was gone because you were lucky enough to have it in the first place.”

Clint nodded, sniffling as he wiped at his eyes before any tears could fall. “I can definitely say, I wouldn’t change anything. It hurts to breathe some days, but the idea of not having ever had Phil… that’s fucking unthinkable. I’ll take all the pain, all the sadness, all of it. As long as I don’t ever forget how happy I was for a short time.” He smiled, eyes sparkling some when he looked up. “I’ve lived a long, shitty life. But Phil? Phil was the best part of all of it. We were together for five years. Married two of them. That was the best five years of my whole life, and I’d never change that.”

Steve nodded, smiling sadly. “I know what you mean,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I should probably try to get some sleep,” he said, stepping away from the piano. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me. Thank you,” he said sincerely before turning to leave.

Clint smiled sadly down at the keys, still hurting but feeling a little better all the same. “Hey Steve?” Steve stopped at the door and Clint nodded. “For what it’s worth, I really hope you get him back.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t give up hope, if I were you. He’s alive out there. As long as you’re both breathing, anything can happen. You both deserve it. Don’t give up on him.”

Steve smiled, nodding. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s hoping,” he said in parting before leaving the room.

Clint turned back to the keys and started playing. “This one’s for you, Phil. Hope you can hear it,” he said, fingers dancing across the keys as he started singing one last song.

_If I didn't care more than words can say, if I didn't care would I feel this way?_

~

An undisclosed number of hundreds of miles away, Phil put a hand over his mouth as he couldn’t help but reach out with his other hand and touch the screen. He picked up his drink and took a sip before rubbing a hand over his face, trying to pretend the feeling in his throat was only from the alcohol as he watched and listened to the feed he had sweet-talked JARVIS into letting him tap into a long time ago.

_“If I didn't care would it be the same? Would my every prayer begin and end with just your name? And would I be sure that this is love beyond compare? Would all this be true if I didn't care for you?”_

He watched Clint finish playing and just sit there for a moment. His lip trembled before he swallowed and raised his glass. 

“Happy anniversary, Clint.”

~

BAM!

Clint jumped, jerking awake so hard he nearly fell onto the floor. He rolled off the couch and grabbed a knife from under the chair, only to sit on his knees, looking around for the sound and seeing nothing. Then the banging started again and he realized someone was at the door. He got to his feet and slowly made his way to the door, just in case it was a threat.

“Please, please be home. Oh God, what if he isn’t home?!”

He heard a woman’s voice he didn’t know and immediately opened the door, knife at the ready just behind his back, because either she was in danger or she was a danger. When he opened it, however, it swung open with force and a woman tumbled in, another two people following her, the last being a young man that slammed the door behind him, flattening his back too it. “Oh thank God, I thought we were about to be killed!” he panted.

“Are you Clint? Please be Clint,” the first woman – a young woman, all of them were very young, Clint observed – said, looking at him with wide eyes. “If you aren’t Clint, we’re in big trouble.”

The second young woman rolled her eyes. “Skye, it was _not_ the Winter Soldier-“

“That was DEFINITELY the Winter Soldier,” the young man argued, doing up the chain beside his head.

Skye – or so her friend had named her – scoffed. “Either it was the Winter Soldier or a rapist and either way, you were about to be fucked, Fitz.”

His eyes widened. “Why do you specify me?” he asked and Skye shrugged, looking apologetic.

“Well, it’s like with bears, you don’t have to outrun the assassin-rapist, you just have to outrun the slowest member of the group and Simmons and I are faster than you-“

“Well that’s bloody terrific!” Clint blinked, looking between the three, apparently Skye, Simmons, and Fitz, as the young man pushed off the door. “You’d leave me to the clutches of an assassin-rapist to save your own skins? I’m feelin’ the love-“

“We’d have got help to come back for you,” Simmons said in a rush. “As soon as we found Clint Barton, we’d have got him to come save you!”

Clint cleared his throat, raising a hand. “Uh, I’m Clint Barton? Who are you, why were you looking for me, and are you serious about the ‘maybe the Winter Soldier’ thing? Cause I know a few people who would be interested in where you saw him,” he interrupted.

Simmons rolled her eyes. “Oh please, why would the _Winter Soldier_ be in Brooklyn? No, it was probably just a rapist. It was his watch we saw, not a metal hand reflecting the light.”

Skye walked over to the window and pointed. “You see that building like two blocks over? He was beside it,” she said, and Clint immediately went to grab his phone off the counter. He texted the location to Steve then returned to the matter at hand.

“Again, who are you, why do you know my name, and what are you doing here?” he asked them. 

“Well, you see,” Simmons started in a pleasant tone, but Skye interrupted.

“Hi, I’m Skye, this is Jemma Simmons and Leo Fitz, we’re SHIELD agents, and the Director of SHIELD left a coded emergency message to us when HYDRA infiltrated our base – again, we’re running out of bases – and we all had to scatter,” she said.

Simmons nodded. “We were away investigating a possible addition to the gifted index in New Jersey and we got the messages that they were onto us. We sort of thought he’d send us to Tony Stark, but Skye figures he sent us to you because there’s too much of a crowd around that building in Manhattan, and you live in a more discreet area.”

Fitz scoffed. “The estate I grew up on was less of a ghetto than this,” he muttered, looking out the window. “I think a Russian man in a sweat-suit tried to sell us drugs on the way in.”

Clint groaned. “Aw, mafia, nooooo.” He took a breath and gestured to the others to sit. “Okay. So. Apparently nobody felt the need to tell me SHIELD still exists. I only knew Director Fury is alive because Steve and Nat told me-“

“Fury’s not the director,” Fitz said, and Clint raised an eyebrow.

“Well I know it’s not Maria Hill. Who else is there? Everybody else high enough is either dead or out of the picture,” he said, and Skye, Simmons, and Fitz exchanged looks.

Skye cleared her throat. “Well… I’m kinda scared of being the messenger here, because he said it would be ugly when any of the Avengers found out but…” She looked at Simmons, who fixed a nervous smile on her face.

“Director Coulson wanted us to say ‘at least we’ll always have New Mexico’. Whatever that means,” she said, and they all seemed to brace for his reaction.

But Clint’s mind was frozen. His body was numb. He couldn’t breathe. He stared straight through Simmons as his pulse pounded in his ears. He didn’t move, he didn’t breathe, he didn’t blink.

_Phil was alive_.

After he had no idea how long, Clint became acutely aware that he needed to breathe, and suddenly it slammed into him like a truck. He sucked in a gasping breath, blinking as tears flooded his eyes from the suffocation and the emotions all at once. He started to shake violently, breath coming in short, sharp gasps. “Wha- wha- he-“ He looked helplessly at the three, shaking his head. “He can’t be- He can’t be alive, no.” He looked down at the coffee table and slid a hand into his own hair, shaking his head. “No, no, nononono,” he repeated over and over. “He’s dead, he died, he- he isn’t-“ He let out a broken, choking sound almost like a sob but too weak.

“Holy shit, I thought we’d get shot or something, not that he’d have a panic attack!” Clint was vaguely aware of Skye saying as he fought to catch his breath as his chest tightened.

“No, he’s not alive, he’s not. He’d never- He’d never fake that, not to me. To anybody but me-“

“Mr. Barton?” He looked up, eyes wide and panicked as a gentle hand touched his arm. Simmons was squatting in front of him. “Mr. Barton, you need to breathe, alright?” He let out a weak sob and she put hands on both of his shoulders, rubbing gently. “Watch me, alright? Just breathe,” she said in a gentle tone. He nodded, watching her chest moving, trying to match her breathing. He watched her with wide, helpless eyes until eventually he calmed some.

When he was finally able to breathe he put his face in his hands and let the tears rush through him, shoulders heaving as he cried. “He’s alive? Phil Coulson, fifties, thinning hair-“

“Big ass scar on his chest? Yeah,” Skye said, and he looked up, startled.

“But if he’s alive why-“

Simmons patted his hand. “It’s a long story,” she soothed and he shook his head, putting his folded hands against his mouth. “I take it you and Director Coulson were close?” she asked, and he let out a somewhat hysterical bark of laughter.

“You could say that,” he agreed, pressing shaking hands against his face, heels of his palms digging into his eyes. “Oh God, oh God he’s _alive_ ,” he laughed as tears burned his eyes. “And he’s _director_? Nick knows? Holy shit, I’m gonna kill Natasha if she knows.” He whimpered as he was hit with another wave of pain over the _betrayal_. He couldn’t trust his best friend, even.

“Phil didn’t warn us you would fall apart on us, man,” Skye said in an awkward tone and he looked up, scoffing harshly.

“Well I’m sorry, Kid, but it’s not every fucking day you find out your husband that died three years ago is fucking alive.” He growled, standing up. “Excuse the fuck out of me for being a little bit upset,” he spat as he stalked over to grab his phone. “Stay put and don’t leave,” he ordered before going up to his bedroom, already dialing Natasha’s number.

~

Clint flopped onto his bed and took deep breaths while the phone rang on Natasha’s end. When it picked up, he half-expected to get her voicemail, but she picked up. “What do you want?” she asked, sounding winded. “I’m busy kicking Tony’s ass while Pepper and Rhodey laugh at him, this better be good.”

He put a hand over his mouth before moving it, fingers trembling beside his ear. “Tell me right now you didn’t know. Swear on my life you didn’t know.”

He heard Natasha’s breath catch and knew he had her attention. “Clint? Clint, what’s wrong?”

“Tell me you didn’t know about Phil.”

There was a long pause before Natasha spoke. “Clint… what are you talking about? What about him? Did you have a bad dream or something-“

“Nat, he’s _alive_ ,” he choked out, hand covering his lips again. 

“Clint… are you okay?”

“No! He’s alive, Natasha!” He shook his head. “Fury knows. Fury made him Director. SHIELD still exists and Phil is the Director and three of his agents are fucking in my living room because they needed a safe house and he told them to come to me! He knows where I LIVE, Nat!” he gritted out angrily. “He knows my address, he- he’s alive and he never- he never-“ He whimpered. “Natasha, he didn’t tell me he’s alive.”

“Are you really sure?” Natasha asked in a colder tone. “How do you know it’s not a trap-“

Clint laughed weakly. “He told them something I’d only know so I believed them.”

After a moment he heard Natasha curse under her breath. “Clint, are you okay?”

He snorted. “Well my husband is alive, after three years, knows where I live, and didn’t think I deserved to find out except he needed a safe house for his agents of which neither of us are one of, how fucking okay do you think I am?” He groaned. “Steve tell you that he’s after a possible Winter Soldier sighting?”

Natasha nodded. “Yeah, but I doubt it’s him. Why would the Winter Soldier be in Brooklyn?”

Clint laughed. “Well he was following my _dead husband’s_ agents, so there’s that.” He looked at the photo of him and Phil he kept on the bedside table and fought the burst of nausea. “Fuck, I’ve gotta go. I’ve gotta go talk to these kids and then make sure SHIELD 2.0 doesn’t actually need something from us. They’re just kids, Nat.”

Natasha huffed. “Good luck with that. I’ll call Steve and see what’s up. Call me if you need me.”

“Oh, I’m sure I will soon enough.” He hung up and took a few breaths then reached over and flipped the photo facedown, too bitter to look at Phil’s lying face anymore.

~

When he walked down the stairs, he heard the kids talking. “He said he’s his _husband_!”

“But what about the cellist bird? From Oregon?”

“Yeah, well, husband is a pretty legal term, and ‘girl I like’ isn’t.”

Clint sighed as he turned the bottom of the stairs. “Her name is Audrey, right?” They looked up and he shrugged. “She’s a friend of his.” He paced. “So apart from the massive bombshell that my lying bastard husband is a lying bastard that’s alive – I’m still trying not to have another panic attack, so don’t push it, Kid –“ he said, seeing the Skye kid open her mouth. “What trouble are you in? Do you know where the rest of your team is? Do you need backup? What’s the situation since I’m now involved in it?”

“HYDRA,” Skye said. “This jerk that used to be one of us but was a traitor when SHIELD fell, he’s like their leader now. He infiltrated the base. Coulson, May-“

“Oh Great! Melinda fucking May,” Clint said, growling. “Whatever, continue.”

Skye raised an eyebrow. “Well, they both escaped and they took a few others, but the rest are being held hostage. Coulson and May should be able to get them back, but for now we needed to shake our tails and get somewhere safe.”

“Well you’re not safe.” They all jumped and Clint had a knife in his hand, ready to throw it, only to have Skye fire two shots at the voice on the landing, clearly missing as they ricocheted off the railing. “Fuckin’ stop that.” The stomps on the stairs grew heavier and Clint’s eyes widened when he saw the metal hand before he saw a face. There, looking like a homeless person, on his stairs, was the Winter Soldier. “I’m trying to help you dumbasses,” he said, pointing upwards. “Bathroom window, wide open. So much for ‘secure’,” he said and Clint felt offended.

“Well excuse me, I didn’t know I was a safe house,” he said. “And what the hell are you doing in my house? Aren’t you supposed to be running from SHIELD and the Avengers?”

The man tilted his head. “I don’t give a fuck about either of ‘em, but I’ve been working too hard to cut off the many heads of HYDRA to sit back and watch the tails that were following them catch them.” He nodded to the roof. “There’s a dead guy up there.”

Clint groaned. “I’m so tired of all of this,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Thank you, Robocop, for killing the HYDRA soldier on my roof. Now care to explain why you wanted to come inside and greet us?”

He lifted his shirt and Clint wasn’t the only one that jerked at the sight of more than a few bullet holes pouring blood. “Figured you might not let me die.”

“Bloody hell, you could’ve LED with that!” Fitz cried and Simmons rushed over to him.

“Goodness, this is really bad. I need towels,” she shouted as she shoved the Winter Soldier onto the coffee table, seeming to have forgotten that he was _the Winter Soldier_.

Clint watched as Fitz and Skye both ransacked his kitchen for what they needed, figuring he should probably stay out of the way. They seemed to know what they were doing and he figured he should probably text Steve just in case.

~

In the end, Clint had to call for Tony to get them a car and fast, because before they could do much, the Winter Soldier had lost consciousness and he was in a bad way. By the time they got him to the Tower, the kids had gone into full ‘team’ mode, and he couldn’t get them to stop and explain before taking over Tony’s lab as a medical center. He and Skye left the room while Bruce jumped in to help Simmons and Fitz try and keep the Winter Soldier from dying.

“What the hell, man?!” Tony demanded when they came out. “You just call me up and go ‘hey, Steve’s old pal is dying in my living room, send a car’ and then show up with three cub scouts and take over my lab?”

Clint scoffed. “It’s a long fucking story, dude. Don’t even ask-“

The elevator opened and Steve practically launched himself out, eyes wide with panic. “Is he here?! Is he okay?! Natasha said-“

“He’s alive,” Clint said, raising a hand, only to realize his error when Steve paled at the blood all over his hands. “He was tracking a HYDRA soldier following these kids that showed up at my place – long story – and one of them shot him a few times. He came into my house because he realized I wouldn’t let him die.”

Skye crossed her arms. “I’m really getting tired of you calling us ‘kids’,” she pointed out. “Also, why do we want the Winter Soldier to be okay? I mean, obviously, letting him die is bad, but why are we that concerned?”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “So Neo-SHIELD doesn’t know that the Winter Soldier is Bucky Barnes?” he asked, and Skye’s head whipped around.

“He’s _who_?!” she asked in shock. She looked to Steve, who nodded, jaw clenched. “Holy fuck!”

Tony smirked. “Uh, Captain America doesn’t like that kinda language, young lady.”

Clint sighed, rolling his eyes. “This really isn’t the time, Tony.” He looked at Steve. “He should be fine. He’s got super healing like you, right? He’ll make it.” He turned to Skye. “You. You need to get into contact with that lying bastard of a husband and make sure they don’t need rescuing. Nobody else gets to kill him before I do,” he said, looking around. “And somebody find Natasha and get her to contact Nick Fury. I’ve gotta kill him, too.”

~

What Clint didn’t expect was for the elevator to open and for Natasha to walk out with Nick Fury following her. “Oh look who was in the neighborhood,” Tony said in surprise. 

“Well, I heard somebody found another popsicle,” he said, and Clint stood up, stalking towards him. “Barton-“

“What the fuck did you do?” he demanded, shoving Fury when he got to him.

“Control yourself-“

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?!” Clint demanded angrily. “I know him getting attacked was real, the kids mentioned his scar, so I wanna know what the hell you did-“

Nick laughed. “What makes you think I’m going to tell you shit?”

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY HUSBAND, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” he snapped, and Natasha grabbed his arm to stop him from hitting Nick when he threw a punch. 

Tony nearly fell off the arm of the couch he’d been sitting on. “Wait, _your_ husband?! I thought ‘lying bastard husband’ was hers,” he said, pointing at Skye. 

Fury sighed dramatically. “Barton, calm the fuck down.” He looked at him seriously. “He died, okay? He died and I did some stuff I’m not proud of to bring him back, and I’ve had to deal with that. But the fact of it was, he didn’t get back to his feet for six months and by then, you’d gone underground. I needed him to keep it together, so Hill told him you had moved on. Convinced him you were better off if he didn’t complicate your life again.”

Clint spluttered. “And he believed it? You’re telling me my stubborn husband just accepted that?!”

“Maybe not, but almost immediately he got in trouble and he had obligations to his team.” He shook his head. “They didn’t get a break for a long time, so he probably had to accept after a year had passed that showing up when he knew that we all let you think he was dead would be worse than not showing up.”

Clint gritted his teeth. “Nick, I am this close to putting my foot so far up your ass your eyepatch becomes a fuckin’ toe ring,” he warned him.

Tony whistled. “Well that’s a visual I didn’t need.” He stalked closer, arms crossed. “Sooo I’m assuming by the things being said that you’re talking about Agent, right?” He gave Fury a disgusted look. “You’ve done some sick shit before, and I’m not that shocked, but _Agent_ has been alive? Really? Faking your death is one thing. But him?” He shook his head. “I _liked_ him, you know? I actually cared about him. When you have a grand total of three friends like I did back then, that means something.”

Fury shrugged. “Got you dumbasses to work together, didn’t it?”

“So Coulson, he was actually _friends_ with the Avengers?” Skye asked, looking around. “I mean, I know he was married to Barton, now, but he was really that important, Sir?”

Natasha grunted unhappily. “He was just as important as you probably think he is,” she told Skye. She looked at Fury. “Where are they now? I’ve got a vested interest in making sure he survives long enough for Clint to kill him.”

Fury checked his watch. “Well, he’ll have his chance in about ninety minutes.”

Skye perked up. “They’re coming here? Are they okay?!”

Fury nodded. “They got out, but a lot of agents weren’t so lucky. Coulson called Hunter and Morse. They might be out of the business, but they still both have a hell of a bone to pick with Ward, and he wanted to get here as soon as possible since you guys managed to bring in the Winter Soldier.”

Tony raised a hand. “Uh, no? That’s a dumb idea. Don’t you spies even think about getting your hands on ol’ Frosty, because I really doubt Rogers is gonna let you get near him and I just finished redecorating. The fight will totally ruin my tower.”

Clint chuckled. “Oh trust me-“

“No way would Coulson try to harm _Bucky Barnes_ ,” Skye interrupted, and Clint looked at her in surprise. “Are you kidding? He nearly wet himself when he got his hands on Gabe Jones’s gadgets, he has a Captain America shield tattooed on his back, that’s definitely not a man that would harm a hair on the Winter Soldier’s head, even if he was still a HYDRA controlled robot of doom.”

Clint narrowed his eyes. “How do you…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “She’s right, though. Trust me, if Phil is even slightly like who he used to be, Barnes is safe.” He tilted his head. “Phil won’t be, because I’m still going to beat him to death, but Barnes is fine.”

~

Clint thought he was prepared. He thought he’d be ready to face Phil and pissed off enough to punch him straight off. When their jet landed he turned to Natasha. “You distract May so I can beat the shit out of my husband, okay?” 

She grimaced. “Only if I can punch him a few times after you’re done.”

Skye laughed uneasily. “You… you do know that… you know. _May_ ,” she stressed, and they both gave her flat looks. She shrugged. “Alright, your funeral.”

But Clint wasn’t prepared.

When the doors opened and May and a tall guy walked through ahead of Phil, he saw Phil’s face behind them and he saw the deeper lines and wearied look on _his husband’s_ face and it all hit him that this was _real_. He stared, not even paying attention to everything else going on, and Phil’s eyes were locked on his as well. Clint watched, jaw working, as Phil walked straight towards him, ignoring the others. 

“Hi, Clint,” Phil said gently and Clint sucked in a breath and snapped, grabbing him by the collar.

“Hi Clint?! HI CLINT?!” he shouted, knuckles white as he shook Phil. “You fucker. You- you _lying piece of shit_!”

Phil grimaced. “I deserve that.”

Clint growled. “You deserve the beating of your life, you bastard.”

Phil nodded, smiling weakly. “I guess it’s kinda late for a ‘sorry’, huh?” Clint shook with rage and Phil sighed. “Thanks for the song. On our anniversary. It was beautiful.”

Clint actually jolted in shock. Some of the anger was replaced with an overwhelming wave of sadness. “You- how-“ He shook his head, throat tightening as his eyes burned at the corners. “How did you-“

Phil smiled apologetically. “JARVIS and I have an understanding. He keeps me updated on how you’re doing. I watched you playing and singing at the party-“

“GOD what’s wrong with you?!” Clint demanded, shoving him, only to go wide eyed when he finally looked away from Phil’s face as Phil stumbled at the shove and lost balance, stumbling a few steps before righting himself. He stared at Phil’s left arm that he just now noticed was in a sling, only to look up at him in shock when he realized his _hand was gone_. “Oh God.” He looked him in the eyes. “What happened?” he asked, stepping closer. “Are you alright? Oh _God_.”

“I’m alive, so I’m actually pretty great,” Phil said in a surprisingly upbeat tone for someone _with only one hand_. It had to be pretty recent if his arm was in a sling still. 

Clint shook his head. “What happened? Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked, putting a hand on Phil’s shoulder to hold him still as he looked him over.

Phil gave him a smile that hurt to see. It was _warm_ and _loving_ and everything Clint didn’t want to see in the face of _three years_ of lies. “I’m fine, Clint. It’s not my dominant hand, and I hear good things about prosthetics these days from SHIELD techs.”

Clint nodded, looking down at Phil’s chest where he knew he’d been stabbed, then back to his eyes. “Phil,” he whispered, shaking his head. “ _Three years_.”

Phil took a breath that moved his shoulders, and Clint could see guilt swimming in his eyes. “I know.” He rolled his lips together. “I just- It wasn’t a good time. And by the time we had any sort of a break in all the things going wrong, it had been such a long time. I had no reason to disrupt your life. I had reassurance that you were okay, you were getting on with your life instead of wallowing, and it was better for you that way.” 

“Especially after he went against my advice and got involved with Skye and had all her shit to deal with,” Fury added behind them. 

Clint’s eyes widened as he snapped his head around to Skye. “Oh, wait, so it’s like _that_?!” he demanded, gaping at her. “You didn’t think that was relevant?!” he demanded, turning towards her.

She frowned. “What do you-“

“Jesus Christ, Phil, she’s _half your age_!” Clint said, glaring over his shoulder at Phil.

Skye gaped. “WHOA!”

“Ew,” Phil said, making a face.

“Holy crap, no freakin’ way, dude-“

“Clint that’s inappropriate, she’s _twenty-six_ -“

“Coulson’s the Dad I never had,” Skye said firmly, looking horrified at Clint’s implication. She tilted her head. “Although…” She turned to Coulson, crossing her arms. “You could’ve mentioned there was a step-dad figure out there somewhere. That might’ve been useful eventually.”

Phil sighed. “Skye, please.”

“What?! You’re the one that’s _married_ and never told anybody!” she said. “Hell, even May told us about her husband-“

“Ex-husband,” May corrected. “And Coulson is not obligated to talk about his former relationships.”

Skye gave her a disbelieving look. “Coulson just admitted that he stalks his ex, come on. Clearly it’s an issue that somebody should’ve known about. Three years later, and he’s still watching creepy footage of his ex at a party. That’s not healthy, and you know it.” She looked at Phil. “Coulson, seriously, you kinda should seek help for that. Maybe talk to May’s ex about your ex-“

“Skye,” Phil said firmly. “My husband is my business. Not yours. Not May’s. Not anybody’s.”

Clint cleared his throat. “Your husband knowing you’re not dead should have been your husband’s business though.”

Phil sighed. “Clint… later, please?”

Clint harrumphed but nodded. “We’re having a very looong discussion later.”

“Aw, you’re not kicking his ass?” Tony asked, and Natasha snorted.

“Oh like Clint was ever going to actually hurt Phil.”

~

Clint was waiting in the empty kitchen with two cups of coffee when Phil finally came in. He slowly settled in front of Clint and looked at the cup. “Changed your mind about killing me?”

Clint chuckled weakly, shaking his head. “I forgot how much of a dork you are,” Clint grumbled. He ran his hands over his face. “Jesus Christ, Phil.”

“So it isn’t poisoned?” he asked and Clint groaned.

“Just drink your damn coffee, Coulson,” he complained. He looked at him, taking in all the little details. Everything he’d missed. The crooked nose from the time a guerilla in Bolivia broke it. The faint scar on his eyebrow from when Natasha had to stitch him up with fishing line and it healed rough. “I should really punch you,” Clint said, shaking his head.

Phil smiled sadly. “I wouldn’t swing back,” he said and Clint scoffed.

“Exactly why I’m not gonna fuckin’ hit you,” he said, leaning back in his seat. He rubbed at his thighs nervously. “Jesus. You really were never gonna tell me?” he asked. “I was never gonna know you’re alive?”

“Well.” Phil grimaced. “It sounds bad when you say that-“

“Because it is,” Clint said coldly. “It’s cruel. And fucking _wrong_. Three goddamn years thinking my husband was dead and blaming myself every goddamn day.” Phil started to open his mouth and Clint scoffed. “Save it, Coulson.” He shook his head. “I know, ‘it’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything’ and I don’t give a shit. I know it’s not my fault. I even accept it’s not my fault sometimes. But the truth is, I feel like it is so it doesn’t matter either way.” He looked at him in distaste. “How did you do it? How could you actually bring yourself to do that to me, Phil? I know you. You’re not that heartless. You’re a good man. So I’m having trouble understanding.”

Phil sipped his coffee before putting the cup down gently. “Well.” He took a breath. “As much as nobody ever likes the answer ‘I did it to help you’, it’s just true. I was gone for six months. A lot can happen in six months. They had it in my mind that you were recovering and moving on and by the time I’d worked out that that was horse shit, it had been a year and when I checked up on you, it really did seem like you were doing pretty well.”

Clint nodded. “Yeah, I had. I had moved to my building, I’d taken care of the problem with the Russians that used to own the place, and I had got a dog. I was doing pretty well by then.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have been fuckin’ thrilled to know my husband was alive.”

“Clint, you had a whole new life-“

“ _Husband_ was _alive_ ,” Clint pressed forcefully.

Phil gave him a wry smile. “Clint, it had been a year. I’ve known people to get re-married by then after they got a divorce.”

Clint gritted his teeth. “We didn’t get divorced, Phil, you _died_. I didn’t have an ex-husband, I had a _late_ husband. You seriously thought after just a SINGLE YEAR I’d be over that?! Over _you_?”

“Yes!” Phil cried, only to settle back, looking surprised at his own outcry. He cleared his throat. “Clint, no, I didn’t think you would be entirely beyond mourning me, nobody stops mourning that fast, but it had been a year. I was sure that by then you would have found someone else and started trying to move on to a new life. You’re you. I’ve never known you to go single for a whole year in the fifteen years I’ve known you.”

Clint laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. “Jesus, you still don’t get it, do you, Phil? You never fucking got it, did you? You still, even after I fucking _married you_ , never accepted that YOU were never like ANYBODY ELSE BEFORE YOU!” he shouted. “You fucking moron, you thought I’d be ready to be with someone else after _a year_ -“

“I know now that I was wrong!” Phil interrupted. He gestured violently. “I get that, I understood that after a while, but by the time I realized that you genuinely, honestly weren’t getting over me and even attempting to move on, it had been nearly two years, I had a lot on my plate, and even if I hadn’t, I knew you would never forgive me if I did come back.”

Clint smiled a broken, somewhat damp-eyed smile at him. “And you didn’t really know if you wanted to, did you?” He propped his elbow on the table, hand over his mouth as he looked away. “Be honest. You always second-guessed your choice with me, didn’t you? You liked me because I’m hot and younger than you, and after all that time, you started to think about how many other options there were.”

Phil laughed in shock. “You think for a second I _ever_ regretted you? Seriously? You think, out of all the choices I’ve ever made, _you_ were the one I regretted?”

Clint shrugged, looking down at the table. “Why not?” He scratched at a chip in the varnish with his nails. “If I was more than a piece of ass, you would’ve probably wanted me with you as soon as you were able, not made the choice to never tell me you’re alive,” he muttered.

Phil shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face. “There is so much I could say that I’m not sure where to start.”

“The truth?” Clint suggested, looking up at him.

Phil looked him in the eyes for a long moment before nodding. “The truth is that I trusted Nick Fury – something I shouldn’t have done – and he told me you were okay. The truth is that I trusted the system and couldn’t tell any Avengers, regardless of whether he was my husband, that I was alive. The truth is that by the time I started stalking you, as Skye so eloquently put it, and realized you were clearly not okay, it was too late to do anything. The truth-“ He stumbled, then sucked in a breath. “The truth is that when I spent half the day in my office watching you on our anniversary this year, and when I saw you playing the songs you played at our wedding, and I saw how much you still missed me, I hated myself, Clint,” he finished weakly. “I convinced myself, no matter how long you seemed to go without moving on to someone else, that you were okay. You were through grieving. And I saw that I was wrong and I hated myself.” He shook his head. “When you started singing that last song, I was sitting in my office contemplating drinking the entire bottle of scotch because I felt like the worst person in the world for doing that to you.”

“Well you should!” Clint argued. “You should feel like the worst asshole in the world, because you ARE!” He sucked in a breath, biting his bottom lip to stop it from trembling. “You let me suffer like this for _three years_. You’re- you’re horrible. You’re worse than anything I can think of to call you, Phil! What kind of monster does it take to leave me like this for so long?”

Phil just nodded, and Clint hated him even more for the genuine regret and pain in his eyes. “I know.”

Clint growled, slamming a hand on the table. “God, don’t agree with me.” He huffed. “It just pisses me off more.” He sat back in his chair, running his hands through his hair. “Fuck.” He shook his head. “Okay, so, I’m sure Fury did something horrible to you, so why don’t you tell me about that instead? Are you a fuckin’ zombie or something?”

“Basically,” Phil said with a chuckle. “Did I ever tell you anything about the T.A.H.I.T.I. project?”

Clint jerked, because yes, he had. “Nothing that was confidential, but you told me it wasn’t right. You told me it was unethical and you had serious reservations. You told me you were going to tell Fury to scrap it.”

Phil gestured to his chest. “I was dead. For days, even. Lying in a morgue.” Clint’s eyes widened and his stomach clenched. “The project was supposed to regenerate tissue and they were able to bring me back to life. Like Frankenstein’s monster. And the reason I had vetoed it originally was that it made the people who survived go mad. They all went insane unless we tampered with their brains. And they did that to me.” He shook his head. “I have no memory of working on it, but I know I did because I left myself a video and May found it. They did to me what I said nobody should do to anyone. And now I’m grateful, I’m alive and I’ve accomplished a lot of important things.” He shook his head. “But they never should’ve done that. They should have left me dead.” He sighed. “I spent six months in recovery that they made me think was in Tahiti, the place. In reality, they were fixing my brain damage and removing the memories and implanting others. By the time I figured out what had been done to me, it had been a year.”

Clint grumbled. “Fuckin’ Fury.”

“Fucking Fury,” Phil agreed.

Clint chuckled, on the edge of hysteria. “You’re a zombie. Great.” He nodded at his arm. “What happened there?”

Phil looked down at his missing hand and hummed. “Well, it’s an incredibly long, complicated story, but I guess I can Cliff Notes it for you.” He nodded at the door. “The big guy out there cut it off with an ax to save my life.”

Clint blinked. “Yeah, I need a little more detail than that. Give me the chapter notes version, not the synopsis.”

Phil’s lips twitched in amusement and he nodded. “There are people with superpowers out there. People biologically born with the potential in their DNA, and then when they’re exposed to this metal, their powers come out. It’s alien DNA in them, basically. The only thing is that metal? Turns humans into stone and they crumble to dust.” He nodded at his hand. “I caught one before it could hit the ground and shatter and kill us all. Even though I have the alien DNA in me, it isn’t the same. My hand started to turn to stone, and Mack thought fast and cut my arm in half above where my hand was turning to stone. Stopped it from spreading. Saved my life like that.” 

“Mack Mackenzie the engineer?” Clint asked, and Phil smiled sheepishly. He recognized the name even if he’d never met the guy.

“Sooo you know that helicarrier that Fury brought to help you guys save the day?” Phil gestured to himself. “I was heading the restoral of that ship in secret, away from all the rest of my team. Mack was part of my team after that ship went down when HYDRA took over. He was the head engineer on board. I brought him into my team after my engineer got hurt and was recovering. We were on that ship when all the hand-chopping went down, saving the ship and the world from the leader of the gifted people, who was evil, even if all the gifted people aren’t.” He cringed. “Also, she was Skye’s birth mother. And her birth father had to kill her to save Skye from her. Skye only ever joined my team when I found her on the streets so she could hack SHIELD and find out where she came from, and when we found her parents, they both turned out to be psychotic.”

Clint hummed. “Something we have in common then,” he said, then chuckled. “Jesus, Phil. You’re the _Director_ of SHIELD. We didn’t even think SHIELD existed anymore. Even with Fury and his helicarrier, we thought he and Hill just had it in storage somewhere. You mean that’s _yours_?”

Phil shrugged. “More or less? I have a base of operations elsewhere, but it’s a good asset to have.”

Clint spluttered. “Well, _yeah_? It’s a fuckin’ helicarrier. Of course it’s a good asset!” He sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Anything else important I should know?”

Phil seemed to think for a moment. “Well… Skye has superpowers like her mother did. I’m the one that found Loki’s scepter and told Hill to tip you guys off. So kinda that whole thing with Ultron is my fault in a way. Oh, Thor can know about me now, so I need to find a way to tell Sif she doesn’t have to lie anymore-“

“Sif?” Clint asked flatly. “Xena Warrior Princess from New Mexico has worked with you?”

Phil nodded sheepishly. “A couple of times. Also, I have a psychotic former specialist with a serious vendetta against us that could become a problem. He’s the new head of HYDRA. You guys will want to know about that, though, so I can share that with the whole class.”

Clint snorted. “Great. You come back three years after dying and bring chaos with you. You’re slipping in your afterlife, Honey,” he droned.

Phil smiled, eyes crinkling at the edges. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you calling me that, Clint.”

Clint scoffed, sliding out of his chair. “Yeah, well, you have no idea what it feels like to think the love of your life has been dead for three years, Phil,” he said without remorse. “Tell me about ‘missing’ somebody when you spend three years wondering if today will be the day it stops hurting so damn much.”

Clint didn’t look back as he left the room, deciding he’d rather go check up on Frosty the Robocop than deal with anymore of Phil’s shit.

~

When Clint joined the others, he was surprised to see Steve was already back. “Hey, how’s Frosty the Robocop?” he asked, and Tony gestured to Clint.

“See? It’s not just me!”

Skye looked past his shoulder. “Where’s Coulson? You didn’t kill him, did you?”

“Oh yeah, poisoned his coffee, he’s probably dead on the floor by now,” Clint said casually. “Hope you said your goodbyes before he came to see me.”

Natasha snickered but Coulson’s three young agents all looked like they were half-afraid he was telling the truth. May, however, just rolled her eyes. “He didn’t kill Coulson,” she reassured them.

Clint saluted her mockingly as he flopped onto the couch beside Natasha, who was using Steve as a foot stool. “Well hey there, Melinda. Long time to see. Thought you went to a desk job? Or did you figure with me out of the way you could finally steal my husband?” he asked, and her eyes narrowed. All of Coulson’s agents took a step back from her and he laughed in amusement at their fear. “Oh c’mon, are they all afraid of you that bad?”

“I don’t want your husband, Barton. Never did. You’re just deflecting right now because you’re upset,” she said evenly and he scoffed.

“Yeah, well, I have good reason to be upset. I was sleeping when your little junior agents crashed my house and brought a Winter Soldier with them,” he said, then glanced at Steve. “Oh yeah, how’s he doin?”

Steve sighed. “He’ll live. He’s unconscious but he should heal up. How he reacts when he wakes up is another story, though.”

“Well the good news is, he wasn’t after us, he was protecting us from the HYDRA soldiers after us,” Simmons said with a hopeful smile. “So there’s that at least.”

Fitz huffed. “And that’s good, because you two were going to _toss me to the assassin-rapist_ , thanks, Jemma, some best friend you are!”

Steve looked at Clint, confused. “Assassin-rapist?”

“Long story,” he muttered, shaking his head. “But yeah, your buddy seemed to be very anti-HYDRA, which is a good thing.” 

Tony hummed. “Soooo what now?”

“Now, I’m definitely thinking about quitting again,” the tall guy – Clint assumed he was Phil’s ‘Mack’ – said. 

Fitz rolled his eyes and swatted at his arm. “You’re not quitting, stop threatening.”

“I’ll pack you up with my belongings and bring you with me,” Mack countered. Fitz blushed and Clint raised an eyebrow at May, who just rolled her eyes.

Bruce came walking into the room and cleared his throat. “Hey, uh, Steve?” He fidgeted with his glasses. “He sorta… wants to see you.”

Steve startled to his feet. “He’s awake?!”

Bruce nodded. “First thing he asked was if Clint had turned him over to HYDRA and when I said no, we were the other guys, he asked if you were here.” Steve stumbled over Clint’s feet as he rushed over to Bruce and dragged him along behind him as they nearly ran from the room. 

Natasha threw up her arms. “No more searching for Steve’s undead boyfriend! I gotta call Sam and tell him the good news!”

Clint hummed. “It appears that whole ‘undead’ thing is going around lately.”

~

Later, after everybody but Clint and Coulson’s team had gone either to their own places or to deal with Bucky Barnes, Coulson came back. “Oh thank God. I was starting to think Barton really did kill you,” Skye said, walking over to hug Coulson as he came into the room.

He chuckled. “Ms. Potts was talking to me about the leaps and bounds made in tissue regeneration. She’s trying to set me up with an appointment to fix my arm.”

Skye brightened up. “That’s great!”

Phil made a face. “I’m not totally sold. I’ve had enough tissue regeneration in my lifetime after TAHITI. I might just guilt Stark into building me an advanced prosthesis.”

“Hey, then you’ll match Bucky Barnes, a childhood dream come true,” Clint droned, rolling his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re turning down tissue regeneration. It fixed me right up. Not even a scar,” he said, tugging his shirt up to show his side, only to realize his error when Phil stilled, face as placid as ever, even though everything in his demeanor screamed ‘shock and sadness’.

“Your tattoo is gone,” Phil said evenly, in that forced calm that Clint hated for him to take on when it wasn’t for a mission.

Clint looked down at his side and felt a familiar pang of loss. “Yeah, well, I was kinda bleeding to death. I took the grafting even though it meant back to the baby smooth skin.”

Coulson cleared his throat, turning to the others. “Would you maybe give us a minute?” he asked politely. “Someone wake Fitz up and take him with you,” he said, gesturing to where Fitz had fallen asleep curled up in a chair.

Clint watched with a small smile and a faint sense of envy as Mack, who he was rapidly realizing was only still there because of one person on the team, scooped Fitz up without waking him and carried him with them to the elevator. Clint grinned when he saw Skye fighting to keep her ‘awwwww’ silent. It was damn adorable. After they were gone, however, he was left with Phil. He looked at him, leaning back into the corner of the couch. “How is Barnes?” he asked, knowing Phil would have an answer.

Phil nodded. “He’s okay. Awake. Alert. Seems to know who he is. I doubt he’ll be ‘okay’ by any means mentally, but he’s lucid.” He walked over and carefully settled in the chair across from Clint. “What do you want to do now, Clint?” he asked softly. 

Clint blinked. “Do about what?”

“Me. Us,” Phil said nervously, licking his lips. “I know you’re upset and with more than enough reason. I don’t blame you at all-“

“As you shouldn’t,” Clint agreed. 

“And I don’t want to rush you, but I just- I have to ask something.” Phil met his eyes, searching his gaze. “Are we still husbands?”

Clint’s breath caught and he took a rattled breath like he’d been kicked in the chest as a wave of ice swam through his veins. “How could you even ask me that, Phil?” he asked, startled.

Phil shook his head. “Because I don’t know the answer. I couldn’t guess either way right now and I need-“

“Of course you’re still my husband,” Clint blurted out in a strangled tone. “Jesus Christ, I’m beyond pissed, and hurt, and upset, and every other word out there, but _of course_ you are!”

Phil looked up with wide, hopeful eyes. “Really?”

Clint let out a pained sound and rolled to his feet, crossing the gap between them. He slid to his knees at Phil’s feet, bracing his hands on the arms of the chair on either side of Phil. “Coulson, I didn’t marry you with any ideas that a future fuck-up could make me _divorce_ you.” He shook his head with a harsh laugh. “I _married_ you. I know some people don’t take it so seriously, but I meant permanency there.” He leaned closer to him. “I’m _furious_ , and I’m _hurt beyond belief_ , but I’m still married to you. It would take so much more than you fucking up to make me stop being your husband. I married you with the intention that the only way I’d take any answer besides ‘til death do us part’ is if you wanted me gone, and unless you’ve gone and decided you don’t want to be my husband while you were ‘dead’, I’m still your husband, Coulson.”

Phil winced. “That sounds dangerous, Clint. What if I was a bad husband? I _am_ a bad husband, but what if I cheated on you or, God forbid, hurt you? You shouldn’t be so ‘marriage is forever’ about it-“

“Oh fuck you,” Clint interrupted, though his voice lacked the fire it had earlier. “I grew up in an abusive home, I know damn well what kind of person abuses their spouse, and I would’ve never married you if there was a shred of that in you. Same with cheating on me. The only way you would cheat on me is if it was you having emotional problems and freaking out, or if you had to for some life threatening situation or something, and I married you knowing we could work past that. I didn’t marry you lightly, Phil. I married you knowing one hundred percent what I was getting, and right now, I realize I got a lying bastard,” he said bluntly, making Phil wince. “But you had a reason. It was a stupid ass reason, but it was a reason. And I’m not forgiving you by any means, but I’m sure as fuck not _divorcing_ you over it.”

Phil smiled at him with so much love in his eyes it hurt to remember. “Every time you open your mouth, I am reminded more and more of why I love you.”

Clint chuckled weakly. “Well yeah? You’re not stupid. If you ever paid attention to me at all in all these years, you know I’m stubborn and don’t take any bullshit. You’re giving me a shit ton of bullshit with this fucking ‘not dead’ crap, but you have to know that as pissed as I am, a part of me, way beneath all the pissed off, is fuckin’ over the goddamn moon because my husband is alive. I fuckin’ love you, Phil,” he said seriously, voice tightening some. He reached out and touched his face, laughing weakly when Phil leaned into his touch. “You’re alive. Three years and you’re right here.” He leaned closer, wrapping his arms around Phil’s shoulders while letting his head fall against Phil’s neck. “You’re my husband and I love you. I really wanna punch you right now, but I’ll always love you, and you’re not getting out of this marriage that easy. You’re breathing so you’re still stuck with me.”

Phil curled his arm around Clint and held him, knees tightening slightly on either side of Clint’s body. “As long as I’ve still got a chance of making it up to you some day, I’m okay with that.”

“Good, because you have a hell of a long road ahead before you get in my good graces, Buddy,” Clint grumbled, making Phil laughed against his hair.

“Yeah, I noticed.”

~

The next morning, after only a few hours of sleep for most of them, Clint entered the kitchen and found almost everybody eating drearily. They all seemed exhausted. He saw Fury standing by the window talking to Natasha and Steve and decided on a course of action. He walked right up to them, stepped past Natasha and popped Fury right in the face, fist connecting hard with his jaw. Steve gasped, and there were a few cries of alarm, but Clint didn’t hit him again, he just backed off, shaking out his throbbing fist. “That’s for all the messed up shit you did to my husband, Nick, and you’re lucky after the fucking with his brain that I’m not throwing you through that goddamn window,” he said coldly, face blank as ever. “If I ever find out you’ve done something similar to anybody else, you’re going flying off this goddamn building, do you understand me?”

Fury wiped at the blood on his lip and fixed Clint with a glare. “Barton, you’re lucky I haven’t put a bullet in you already, do not test me-“

“Don’t fuck with my husband,” Clint argued, breaking his calm mask. “You knew damn well who he was married to, you had to know I would _not_ be okay with that shit-“

“I’m shocked you’re not happy he’s alive, seeing as you spent the past three years depressed as hell over your dead husband.”

Clint gritted his teeth, stepping closer. “He told you to shut that program down. Of course I’m happy my husband is alive, but I will never be happy you went against his wishes to do so. Everybody has their choices and you took his away. I will not thank you for that,” he said coldly, voice low and dangerous. “You know all the times somebody took my choices away from me, every single one, Fury, so you can understand why I’m so angry you took his.” He shook his head. “Get out of my sight and don’t ever doubt that I will end you if you ever do anything like that to him again.”

Fury scoffed, shaking his head as he pushed past Clint and left the room. “Say what you want, Barton, but wanting to keep my friend around isn’t anything like what happened to you, and I cannot believe you would ever accuse me of being half as bad as that.”

“I said get out,” Clint repeated louder, glaring until Fury was gone. 

For a few moments everybody was quiet and tense, but to everybody’s surprise, the first person to react was Bruce, who made a disgusted sound. “God, that guy’s such an asshole.”

“For all the good he does, he really does have a way of rubbing people the wrong way,” Simmons said, shaking her head sadly. “Saved my life, saved Fitz’s life, saved a lot of people’s lives, and yet still manages to seem like an utter-“

“Twat?” Fitz offered, pushing eggs around on his plate rather than eating them.

Clint grinned as he walked around the table. “I like this one,” he said, ruffling Fitz’s fluffy curls on his way past him. “He’s freaking adorable,” he said, ignoring the offended huff Fitz gave him. “Can we keep him, Cap?” he asked Steve, batting his eyelashes at him as he took the empty seat beside Bruce. 

Steve chuckled. “The kid isn’t a puppy, you can’t just bring him home with you.”

Clint shrugged. “I can adopt him, I’m probably old enough to be his dad.”

“Oi!” Fitz let out an offended cry. “I’m not a child! I’m twenty-bloody-six years old!”

Tony looked at him in surprise. “Really? I figured seventeen. Nineteen at the most.”

“Same,” Clint said, humming as he looked at Fitz. “Lucky. You’ll look really young when you get my age.” He winked at Mack. “Like Mack here. You’ve been around SHIELD almost as long as I have, right? Never met before all this, but I heard your name for years.”

Tony huffed, rolling his eyes. “Do not tell me that-“

Mack nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been with SHIELD for about fifteen years-“

“Ouch,” Tony said, clutching his chest dramatically. “That means you have to be at least thirty-five.”

“Try forty-two,” Mack countered, and Tony made a pitiful sound.

“I look so old,” he whimpered, dropping his head to the table. “I need a face-lift. Now.”

Clint and Bruce both rolled their eyes at each other. “Suck it up, man. Bruce has gray hair and I’ve got way more wrinkles than you. It comes with being in your forties. We all have to deal with it.”

Skye and Simmons, however, were staring at Mack in shock. “Oh my God, you’re _forty-two_?!” Skye asked in shock. “You’re old enough to be my _dad_ sort of!” she realized, and Simmons made a squeaking sound.

“And you’re dating _Fitz_?! He’s the same age as Skye!” she said, and Fitz flushed bright red.

“What? Dating who?! Psh, no, no. Definitely not!” he said in a high tone.

Clint snickered when May rolled her eyes from her spot across from him. “They’re dating, aren’t they?” he asked her, and she nodded.

“They’re just too stupid to realize it. At least Fitz is,” she said and Clint grinned, looking at the baby agents in amusement.

~

There was little on God’s green earth that was sadder than Captain America crying, if you asked Clint. There was none of that ‘one manly tear’ bullshit when it came to Steve, he was sitting in an armchair with his knees pulled up to his chest, full on sniveling and snotty nose crying. He kept wiping his face with his palms so his whole face was red and raw and his blue eyes were even brighter for the redness of his face and his tear-swollen eyelids.

Natasha sat on the arm of the chair, rubbing his shoulders comfortingly. “It’s going to be okay, Steve,” she muttered and Clint recognized her ‘I might be lying but I hope I’m not’ tone. 

None of them had known what to do really when Steve came into the room, paced a few times around the furniture, rubbing at his hair and face before finally letting out a pained sob and falling into the chair and letting go. He didn’t seem to be ashamed of crying in front of everybody, which Clint commended him for, but everybody else seemed incredibly uncomfortable about it. Of course ‘everybody’ included Coulson’s kids, Mack, Clint, Natasha, and Pepper. 

Pepper had immediately gotten up to go see if she could find out what had set Steve off – Clint figured she was used to Tony making people cry – and the rest of them were left sort of sitting where they were, apart from Natasha, trying to decide if it would be more unobtrusive to sneak out or stay very still. 

Clint finally decided to suck it up and he cleared his throat. “Um, Steve? Did something happen that… you might wanna talk about?” he asked carefully.

Steve looked up and Clint was momentarily disarmed by how open Steve was with his emotions. Clint could only assume that once Steve Rogers gave you his trust, he held very little back, because everything was written across his face and he looked _incredibly_ young for it. “He- he knew I was behind the one-way mirror watching,” he admitted, sniffling. “He was telling Coulson and May what he knows and he told them about the-“ Steve flinched. “The stuff they did to him that he knows about, and it was horrible. God, it was terrible.” He took a shaky breath. “Then he looked at the glass and said, ‘Don’t get any ideas to come in here, Punk, because I never did finish that mission and who knows what might snap if I see your ugly mug’.” Steve put a hand over his mouth, fighting not to make a sound. “He’s really Bucky. It’s really him that- that they did all that stuff to. They- they made him hurt so many people and turned him into a weapon and he _remembers it all_ ,” Steve choked out, a sob following as he let his forehead fall to one knee.

Clint flinched, remembering vividly every single person he killed while Loki controlled him. The whole time, he was lucid, he just didn’t have any part of him that wanted anything besides ‘please Loki’, and after that stopped, Clint remembered every second, every shot, every happy feeling over murdering someone because Loki would be proud. 

Suddenly, Clint had a lot stronger feelings about Bucky Barnes than he did before. Confirmation that what he’d been haunted by a few days of Bucky Barnes had suffered for _decades_ was so horrific Clint’s stomach twisted and he felt a faint wave of nausea at the thought. He actually fought a wretch when he had flashes of what happened to him long before it took brainwashing to force him into doing stuff horrible people wanted. The anger and pain at the memories of every time he’d been forced into anything made him filled with rage unlike he’d felt in a long time. “Fucking HYRDA,” Clint spat suddenly, slamming his hand repeatedly against the arm of the couch. “Goddamn, motherfucking, sick ass Nazi bastards-“

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Tony smacked Clint’s arm on his way past. “My couch did nothing to you-“

“Oh fuck off, Stark,” Clint snapped, too busy hating HYDRA to deal with Tony’s sense of humor.

Pepper sighed as she and Phil filed in behind Tony. “Tony, leave him alone.”

“What?!” Tony asked, holding out his hands. “He’s cursing and hitting my couch because of Nazis, for some reason.”

Clint scoffed. “Fucking HYDRA and their fucking sick ways. I swear to God, I want to hurt somebody over what they did to that guy in there,” he snapped. “Brainwashing is fucking disgusting. Taking away somebody’s choice is the worst fuckin’ thing anybody can ever do, and they did it to him for _decades_.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “I know Loki made you his puppet for a couple of days and made you blow some shit up, but HYDRA never did anything to you specifically. I’m very ‘fuck those guys’ too, but my couch isn’t HYDRA, so chill out.”

“It doesn’t matter who does it!” Clint argued, shaking he was so angry. “Forcing people to do stuff, making them blame themselves for what happens to them, is fucking SICK!” He put his face in his hands, flashes of Loki painted across the back of his eyelids. 

Tony’s voice stopped him. “What the fuck, Barton? I was watching too, Cap’s buddy Frosty the Robocop didn’t say anything about _that_.”

“Oh bullshit, like he doesn’t blame himself for EVERYTHING he remembers the same way I feel like every single person who died was my fault!” Clint shouted, chest heaving. “It doesn’t matter he’s alive, I thought Phil dying was _on me_. I killed my own fucking husband. I _contributed to his murder_. No matter who told me it’s not my fault, I never once stopped feeling like it was and it- it’s fucking _horrible_ ,” he croaked. “And they did that to him. They made him try to kill his best friend. They made him- they made him _want it_ ,” he all but whispered. He took a deep breath and shook his head. “Sorry, I need to get some air,” he said as he turned to leave.

He knew his team. He knew that none of them would ever judge him for what he’d just said, none of them would pity him, and none of them would think he was weak. As for Phil’s team, he didn’t care that much. They would be gone soon enough. It was Tony who needed to learn a lesson about respecting people’s boundaries. As horrific as what happened to him had been, he’d learned that cruelties far worse than that existed out there, and he knew better than to think being a victim of something that horrible was something only he faced. He knew the horror stories Natasha had told him about the Red Room. He knew now that Bucky Barnes had been used as a weapon and had no choice in the matter for _seventy years_.

He just hoped Tony learned when to stop pushing.

~

Clint didn’t come out of his room until he was sure everybody else was asleep. However, while he was making a sandwich since he’d skipped dinner, Steve ambled in, looking for all the world like someone had kicked his ass. He was in pajamas, but he seemed dazed and looked like he was on the verge of breaking down again.

“How’re you holding up?” Clint asked and Steve looked up, seeming surprised to see him there.

“Clint. Hey.” He walked over and Clint held up the bread and Steve nodded. 

Clint didn’t hand it to him, however, and instead started making Steve a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “I know how to make them perfect,” he said, grinning at Steve. Steve leaned into the L of the counters, hands resting on either side of him. He gave Clint a small smile and Clint figured it was the best he could manage. “So. How’re you holding up, Steve?” he asked companionably.

Steve sighed, scrubbing at his face. “I’m managing it.” He smiled tiredly. “Helps that when I picture Bucky like that, I can think of Agent Coulson punching Tony in the face and at least distract myself for a second.”

Clint dropped his knife in surprise. “Phil _punched_ him?!” he asked and Steve smirked nodding.

“Hard enough to knock him on his ass. Didn’t swear at him or anything, just looked really angry and walked right over to him, knocked him on his ass, then fixed his tie and left,” he said and Clint grinned, feeling a small flutter of warmth.

“I should’ve stuck around a few more minutes,” Clint said and Steve’s smile slid some.

Steve just shook his head. “You’re just… you’re so strong,” he said, and Clint raised an eyebrow in surprise. Steve smiled sadly. “You went through something so terrible and lived with it, and I broke down crying because my _friend_ was hurt-“

“Don’t do that, Steve,” Clint said gently but seriously. “Don’t compare suffering. It’s not a contest. Trauma isn’t a competition. Nobody’s trauma is any less or any more than yours. I’ve had three years to deal with it. I survived, I made some bad choices and good choices, and I ended up living a sort of a life the past few years without having to spend every day thinking about it. It sucks, it’s always going to suck, but I’ve had time to deal with it.” He nodded to him. “All this is happening real-time to you. And even if it wasn’t, that wouldn’t change anything. He’s your best friend and somebody hurt him. I know damn well watching the people you love hurt is almost worse than what happens to you.”

Steve smiled, taking another bite of his sandwich in silence. They stayed that way for a little while before he looked up and cleared his throat. “I mean, I was in love with him.” Clint smiled sadly and Steve met his eyes nervously. “I mean, you already knew that, and I guess I still am, but- Bucky. I was in love with him. That’s part of why-“ He took a shaky breath. “I can’t stand knowing all that’s happened to him, because- because I love him.”

Clint smiled at him and nodded. “Thank you for trusting me to tell me these things, too, Steve,” he said, earning a brief smile before they both went back to eating their sandwiches in relative silence.

~

Clint saw a light on in Pepper’s office on the way back to his room Tony kept for him when he needed it and peeked in, hoping Pepper wasn’t still up, only to see that it was Phil, not Pepper, who was using her office. He leaned against the door casing, raising an eyebrow. “Pepper lend you her office?”

Phil looked up with a smile that said he knew Clint was there before he spoke. “She says it’s the one Tony Stark-proofed room in the building. That and her actual office downstairs.”

Clint nodded. “Pretty sure he has microphones in the bathrooms even. He seems to know what song I’m singing in the shower when I stay here.” 

“I’m alarmed but not surprised,” Phil said, leaning back in his (Pepper’s) chair. He looked at Clint for a long moment before speaking. “Are you okay?”

Clint smiled sadly and nodded. “Yeah. I’m fine.” He grinned. “Heard you punch Tony.”

Phil gave him an embarrassed wince. “I overreacted a little. But, that said, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he said with a sigh.

“Oh I know you have,” Clint chuckled. “You’ve wanted to punch Tony Stark since you met him.” Clint tapped on the door. “It’s late. You should sleep, Phil.”

Phil raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what’re you doing up, then?”

Clint grinned. “You’ll be so jealous to know I just had a midnight snack with Steve.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I made Captain America a peanut butter and jelly sandwich,” he teased.

Phil chuckled. “Not too hard to draw a very firm line between my childhood obsession and the young man who openly cried over his friend being hurt.”

“Yeah, apparently there was way less ‘crying is for pussies and girls’ bullshit when Steve was growing up, cause _man_ he is totally unashamed of crying in front of people,” Clint said. “Natasha said that’s not the first time she’s had to calm him down. Poor dude.”

Phil nodded. “Doesn’t help that he was clearly a bit… attached.” He snorted, shaking his head. “Jesus, I’m talking to you about Captain America being obviously bisexual. Life is so strange.”

“Well, until a few days ago you were dead to me, so yeah, it’s really strange,” Clint agreed. He smiled faintly as he looked Phil over. “You know, it’s kinda awesome you punched Tony for upsetting me. It was pretty hot.”

Phil stilled, looking up at him in surprise. “Oh really?” he asked, and Clint rolled his eyes.

“I’m still super pissed at you, but yes, it’s always hot when you hurt people and yes I know how fucked up that sounds.” He nodded to the hall. “C’mon. Let’s go to bed, Honey.” Phil raised an eyebrow and Clint gave a derisive snort. “Oh hell no, I mean separately. No way in hell am I sharing a bed with you. I’ll wake up in the night and strangle you.”

Phil smiled and shook his head as he stood up and grabbing his phone. “If you’re telling me to go to sleep, chances are it’s late enough I probably should.” He came to the door where Clint was still standing and Clint couldn’t help the part of him that was in awe of the sleepy look on Phil’s face. After so long he missed seeing how soft Phil looked when he was sleepy. “Lights please, JARVIS.”

“Of course, Director.”

Clint stepped out of the way as Phil passed, but caught Phil’s elbow before he could leave. “Hey.” Phil looked at him in surprise, and Clint rolled his eyes. “Don’t read too much into this,” he warned before sliding his arms around Phil’s shoulders, leaning into him, careful of Phil’s arm. He laid his head on Phil’s shoulder, sliding his right hand into the hair on the nape of Phil’s neck.

“Clint?” Phil asked hesitantly as he carefully rested his hand on Clint’s hip.

Clint clenched his eyes shut tight, jaw tense. “I don’t forgive you. I’m still incredibly, incredibly upset with you. Part of me wants to use this position to choke you out,” he joked and Phil chuckled. “But I just…” he turned his head and tucked his face into the gap between Phil’s shoulder and jaw. “I missed you so much. For so long. Just give me a minute.”

Phil curled his arm around Clint’s middle and hugged him, making Clint relax into his hold some. “I know that almost no amount of ‘I’m sorry’ will ever fix this, but for what it’s worth, I missed you every single day,” Phil murmured, and Clint sighed, nodding minute.

“I know, Phil. It doesn’t really fix things, but it feels a little less shitty.” He pulled back far enough to look Phil in the eyes. He smiled sadly. “No matter what, I still love you, Phil. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Phil nodded, rising on his toes to press a kiss to Clint’s forehead. “I love you, too, Clint. And one day, I’ll actually act like it instead of hurt you.”

Clint chuckled and nodded as he stepped out of Phil’s hold. It was like ripping off a bit of skin, but he had to. He needed to put space between him and Phil, because there was still so much he had to think about and work through before he could let him in. It was only a moment’s weakness that made him crave Phil’s touch so badly this time. “Goodnight, Phil.”

When he was walking away, he could hear the smile in Phil’s voice as he replied, “Goodnight, Clint.”

~

Because he trusted Clint to know the extent of his past with Bucky the same way Natasha did, Steve humbly asked them both if they would come help as guards when it was determined that, in order to test how much he was Bucky Barnes and how much was HYDRA assassin, they would have Steve talk to Bucky.

Bucky was in a room, one that was practically a mix of hospital room and cell, and they didn’t want him escaping if he snapped. Natasha and Clint were there to help contain him if the need arose. Phil was there because he was the director of SHIELD. Steve looked more nervous than Clint had ever seen him as they walked up the hall and stopped in front of Bucky’s cell. There was a floor to ceiling two-way mirror to the left of the door and they stopped there, looking in.

Clint’s first thought was, “He looks so tired.” It was true. He sat on his bed sideways, leaning against the wall. He was wearing a plain black hoodie and plaid lounge pants, and he looked nothing like an international assassin. He just looked tired. 

“So. How do we do this?” Steve asked, looking down at Natasha. 

She nodded to a panel beside the door. “Turn on the audio and you just talk. He won’t be able to see you. We want to test and see if just your voice could trigger him. He never completed his mission of killing you, so we need to know if it’s still programmed into him. If he doesn’t freak out at your voice, we’ll go from there.”

Steve nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay.” He looked at Clint and then back at Phil, who gave an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, but I need to be here. Director of SHIELD and all,” he said and Steve nodded, biting his lip.

“Right. Right.” He looked at Natasha, who slugged him in the arm.

“We’ll step back some, give you some space, but I promise, anything said will go to the grave,” she promised him.

Clint nodded. “Same, dude. You know all the crap me and you talked about? None of that and nothing said here will ever see the light of day.”

Natasha nodded at Phil. “If he tries to talk about it, I’ll kill him for you,” she added and Steve smiled gratefully.

“Okay.”

Natasha pressed something no the keypad and there was a crackling as the audio came on. Inside the room, Bucky looked up at the ceiling, then looked around as he tensed. “Easy there, Soldier,” Natasha said. “Just the intercom.”

“Uh, hello?” he asked, voice rough from disuse. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “Are you one of the doctors?”

“Just a friend of a friend,” Natasha said, glancing at Steve, whose eyes were fixed on the room. “Someone wants to talk to you. I want to be honest with you though, so I’m not going to surprise you. We want to test and see if you are still a danger to Captain America. You never finished your mission to kill him. We want to see if you’re going to be triggered into trying to do that.”

He slid further into the corner, almost as if trying to melt into the wall. “Don’t let him come in here! I could kill him! If you open the door I don’t know what will happen-“

“We’re not taking that risk either,” Natasha replied smoothly. “Which is why we’re going to let him talk to you.” That seemed to be a relief to Barnes, who relaxed some.

Natasha looked at Steve, who cleared his throat. “Um. Hey Bucky.” 

They all waited without breathing to see what Barnes would do, but he just turned to look right at the glass with an almost nervous smile. “Steve?” he asked, unthinkingly shuffling to the end of the bed nearer the glass. He sat on the end of the bed, looking at the mirror, clearly not seeing them but knowing where Steve was.

Steve let out a strangled laugh. “Yeah. It’s me.” He smiled. “So. You’re not going crazy yet. That’s a good sign. I take it you don’t wanna kill me?”

Bucky chuckled weakly, rubbing a hand over his fair, pushing his hair out of the way. “No more than I always did. Well, maybe a little more. You’ve done some dumb shit lately, you know? Even if the crap they did to my brain didn’t take over, I’d probably still try to wring your neck if you came in here. Just for bein’ a punk.”

Steve beamed, the happiest look on his face Clint had definitely ever seen, and laughed. “Hey, I’m just doing my job, no need to be a jerk about it.”

“You’ve always thought it was your job to save the world, Steve,” Bucky argued and Steve’s smile twisted into something sad.

“Yeah, and you always thought yours was to save me,” he said in a softer tone.

Bucky nodded. “S’cause it is. Or was.” He made a face. “No, still is. Even when I wasn’t me, I still saved you. Guess I wasn’t all gone in there, huh?”

Steve sobered up and paled. “That wasn’t you, Bucky.”

“Yeah, it was,” Bucky said sadly. “Just how it goes, Steve. Every hero’s gotta have his nemesis, right? Ain’t that what the pictures always said?”

Steve shook his head. “HYDRA assholes are the bad guys in this scenario, Bucky. You were just another victim-“

“A victim with blood on my hands,” Bucky said hollowly.

Natasha cleared her throat, interrupting them. “Hey guys? Sorry but it’s time to go to test two.” She pressed some buttons and the lights in Bucky’s room dimmed as the lights in the hall grew brighter just before a shimmer went over the glass that let Clint know it was clear now.

It was made even more obvious when Bucky’s eyes flickered around at them all, pausing on Clint. “Hey, I know you. Sorry about your roof.”

Clint shrugged. “Not the first dead guy up there. Probably not the last, sadly.”

Barnes chuckled then looked at Natasha, raising an eyebrow. “Wow, I pictured you a lot bigger.”

She shrugged. “Gotta balance out how big Steve is. If we were both big, we’d never fit together as well.”

Steve flushed, turning to stare at her in horror. “ _Nat_!” he cried, voice strangled.

She snickered, rolling her eyes. “Oh please, there’s no way in hell you’d score a hot woman like me, Rogers. Dream on. You know what I meant.”

“Also, you’re like a _sister_ to me,” he said, shaking his head as if to rid it of mental images. Clint just snickered at how red Steve’s ears were.

“I dunno,” Bucky said, and he stood and walked closer to the glass, eyes locked on Steve. “You’ve got some high standards if you think you’re gonna find somebody better lookin’ than Steve Rogers,” he said, and Steve smiled bashfully at him, their eyes locking finally.

“Buck, stop,” he said, and Bucky shook his head, a warm look pushing away the pale, tired expression in his eyes as he looked Steve over, drinking him in like he’d never seen anything better in his life. He smiled nervously. 

“Heya, Stevie,” he said, and Steve stepped even closer to the glass, eyes raking over Bucky’s face. Bucky winced, pushing at his hair. “I must look a mess-“

“I wouldn’t give a damn if you were covered in mud, Bucky,” Steve said in a tight voice. “As much as I’ve missed you, you will never be anything less than beautiful.” 

Bucky’s eyes grew sad. “Steve, I’m a monster-“

“I don’t give a fuck, Bucky,” Steve argued. “You’re _alive_ and you’re _here_. I don’t care what you did. I don’t care who they turned you into. You’re James Buchanan Barnes-“

“I’m a goddamn murderer, Steve.” Bucky argued in frustration. “I have done so much-“

“And I. Don’t. Care,” Steve gritted out. He blinked rapidly and Clint grimaced, already knowing the waterworks were coming. “Bucky-“

“Steve, I’m not the same man you knew-“

“YOU WILL ALWAYS BE MY BUCKY!” Steve shouted, slamming his palm against the glass that, thankfully, barely shook. Steve let out a weak sound, face crumpling. “You’re _alive_ , Bucky. I lost you, and you were gone for so long,” he choked out. “I let you fall and you died and- and you were _gone_ -“

“Oh Stevie.” Steve let out a sound barely less than a sob, head hanging. “Punk, look at me.” Steve lifted his head, a tear streaking his cheek and Bucky walked right up to the glass. He raised his left hand – the metal one – and put it flat, right over Steve’s right hand. Steve glanced at the glass separating them and whimpered, palm pressing flatter as if he’d somehow feel Bucky through it if he just pressed closer. “Stevie, Babydoll.” Steve looked up and met Bucky’s eyes, only inches away from his own on the other side of the glass. “Steve, you did not let me die-“

“I did, it was my fault HYDRA got their hands on you-“

“No,” Bucky said fiercely. “I will not let you blame yourself for fucking HYDRA. They did this to me. Not you. You never did a goddamn thing wrong when it came to me. Not ever.” He shook his head. “Stevie, you are the bravest person I ever met. Don’t cry over me-“

“Don’t you dare tell me not to cry over you!” Steve argued, letting out a sob as he let his forehead thunk against the glass. “Goddammit, Bucky, you fell off a fucking train and they found you and tortured you and made you do things and you’re telling _me_ not to cry? I should’ve saved you! I should- I should’ve protected you. You were my everything and I let them hurt you-“

“No, Stevie, you tried,” Bucky murmured, hand still flat against the glass on the opposite side of Steve’s. “Stevie, it’s okay. I promise, it’s okay. I survived. I survived and I’m here now. You did all you could-“

“You think you’re a monster, Buck,” Steve sobbed. “You fuckin’ think you’re a monster and I can’t stand it. You hate yourself and I love you so much, Bucky. I lived two fuckin’ years waking up every night remembering what you looked like falling off a mountain because I couldn’t catch you and every time I woke up, I laid there prayin’ that next time I just wouldn’t wake up, cause at least I’d be with you again, I’d see you one more time-“

“Steve,” Bucky croaked, but Steve kept going, clearly unable to stop now that he’d got going.

“-and then I found out it was worse than you bein’ dead, it was worse, because they had made you into something so different than Bucky Barnes ever could be and I hated myself even more for letting it happen.”

“Listen to me, Stevie.” Bucky tapped the glass until he looked up, meeting his eyes. “Sweetheart, don’t ever say you wish you had died again, okay? Everything I did in that war- hell, everything I did since the day I realized how much I loved you, all of everything I did was to keep you safe. To make the world safer for _you_. Fuck America, fuck the world, _all of it_ was for you. Don’t you ever give up when I gave up _everything_ to keep you safe.”

“Then don’t you keep goin’ places I can’t follow you,” Steve argued weakly, voice breaking. 

Bucky made a frustrated sound as he touched the glass where Steve’s face was. “I can’t even touch you. Seventy goddamn years of torture is nothin’ compared to you cryin’ where I can’t touch you and make it stop, Stevie.”

Steve glanced helplessly at Natasha but Bucky cut him off before he even asked. “Don’t even think about it, Steve. I can hear you and not clock out, I can see you and not clock out, but who knows if you comin’ in the room is safe.” 

“But Bucky-“

“No,” he said firmly. He smiled sadly. “I wanna feel you in my arms again, Stevie, but it ain’t worth risking it, you know? If I hurt you again, I’d wanna die, okay?”

Steve sniffled, but nodded. “I get it.” He laughed wetly. “It really fuckin’ stinks though.”

Bucky laughed and let his head thump against the glass again, eyes slipping shut. “Don’t I know it.” He shook his head. “Nothin’ matters when it all boils down to it. You and me both being alive? It’s a second chance and I won’t waste a second I could be spendin’ with you, Punk.”

Steve smiled, laughing. “I know what you mean, Buck.”

Clint swallowed hard as Bucky’s words about second chances hit him. He glanced left, looking at Phil, who was already looking at him. He reached out and hesitantly touched Phil’s hand. He was relieved when Phil faced forward again, but tenderly slid his fingers along Clint’s palm and curled their fingers together, locking their hands together firmly.

Clint looked forward again, chest aching as he replayed the words over and over in his head.

_It’s a second chance and I won’t waste a second I could be spending with you._

~

When they all left, Steve looking a little lighter than usual as he and Natasha went to find the others, Phil caught Clint’s hand and stopped him from following. They stood in the empty hallway, and Clint waited until Phil spoke. “I’m so, so sorry, Clint.”

Clint bit his lip. “Phil-“

Phil shook his head, stepping closer. “I know no amount of ‘I’m sorry’ will ever undo even a fraction of the hurt I’ve caused you, but I will tell you how sorry I am every day for the rest of my life either way.” He squeezed his hand, deep blue eyes boring into Clint’s. “I love you, Clint. I love you and I hurt you and I know that makes me a bad person-“

Clint scoffed softly, shaking his head. “Phil.” He sighed. “That doesn’t make you a bad person, Phil. Just a stupid one.” He reached up with his free hand and cupped Phil’s face. “Look, I know you love me. I love you, too.” He tilted his chin up and kissed Phil’s forehead. “No matter what, I got you back, Phil.” He smiled, stroking his cheek tenderly. “I got my husband back.”

Phil let go of his hand only to curl an arm around his waist, bracing his palm flat against Clint’s lower back to tug him in. Clint didn’t even fight it when Phil kissed him. His fingers flexed on Clint’s back as they kissed deeply, Clint’s arms coming up to circle Phil’s shoulders. They kissed for a long time before Clint finally pulled back, smirking as he nosed into Phil’s cheek. He kissed his jaw with a grin. “Damn, Honey,” he breathed.

Phil chuckled, leaning their foreheads together. “Man, I’ve missed that.”

Clint sighed, leaning into Phil’s hold. “I have, too.” He pulled away just a little, letting Phil’s hand on his lower back hold some of his weight. “I have a very serious question to ask you, Phil,” he said and Phil nodded expectantly. Clint smirked. “How many times has your inner fourteen year old nearly come to the surface since you discovered Bucky Barnes is alive?” he asked and Phil groaned, rolling his eyes.

“I feel so pathetic every time I get sweaty palms around Rogers. I’m on friendly terms with an actual Asgardian and yet Steve Rogers still makes me get all awkward and nervous.” He frowned grumpily at Clint. “I’m too old to be this excited about both of them being alive and, even worse, apparently in love with each other. I feel like Skye.”

Clint threw his head back and cackled playfully before grinning at Phil, sliding a hand up to curl around the back of his neck. “You’re still such a dork.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Be jealous, I’m _friends_ with Captain America. We have secret ‘middle of the night’ conversations about things. We’re gonna paint each other’s toes and have a sleepover-“

“I would pay you so much money to actually propose an Avengers slumber party with pedicures,” Phil said with a very serious expression, though his eyes were shining with amusement. “I want to film the reactions of the others when you make this suggestion.”

Clint chuckled. “You joke, but I’m pretty sure they would all be down for it. This is a weird group, man. Swear to God, I’m not sure who Tony’s in a relationship with anymore, Pepper or Bruce. And Steve and Thor act like this is a frat house sometimes. The other day they were drinking while working out! Thor has stuff that can affect Steve and they were lifting weights and drinking Asgardian alcohol at like ten in the morning. And don’t even get me started on Steve and Natasha acting like bratty children when they get together. Natasha actually complained about Steve looking at her funny during lunch, Phil. It’s insane. Bruce is the only half-sane one, and Tony talks him into stupid shit because Bruce can’t help the part of him that wants to know what happens if Tony pushes the big red button.”

Phil chuckled. “And the fate of the world rests in your hands. The earth’s mightiest superheroes.”

“The earth is screwed, man,” Clint said with a grin.

Phil hummed, rubbing his hand idly up and down Clint’s back. “Well, could be my team. In the time I’ve had the team, I accidentally adopted a hacker, she committed minor betrayal, one of my team did betray us and is now the head of HYDRA, each of us has nearly died at least once, SHIELD fell and we found a secret base, Maria Hill told the government about our base, I was appointed director, we found _another_ base, picked up some new team members - two of which have since quit to go probably get married again but they still help out – of which two betrayed us to a secret _other_ SHIELD that we ended up proving wrong and absorbing, and now HYDRA crashed our new base and we have to find another.” He tilted his head. “And my two engineers are about one ‘lingering gaze’ from working out that they’re dating and don’t know it yet.”

Clint smirked. “The big guy, right? He’s hot.”

“Yeah, he’s not bad, is he?” Phil asked and Clint laughed, pulling him into another hug.

“Well our lives are fuckin’ complicated, huh Boss Man?” Clint asked, laying his cheek against Phil’s shoulder.

Phil grumbled. “I hate when you call me that.”

“Yep. I know that,” Clint said, nodding at him. “Doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop calling you it. Especially since you’re still on my shit list provisionally.”

“Provisionally?” Phil asked interestedly. “That mean I might get off soon?”

Clint barked out a laugh. “Oh Honey, we’re so far from sex being on the table,” he teased and Phil gave him a look.

“Clint, be an adult,” he said and Clint smirked.

“Never.” He kissed Phil one more time then stepped away from him. “I’m going to go see about Steve. But come by my room later, okay? I really do wanna catch up with what’s going on with neo-SHIELD.”

Phil nodded, hand trailing down Clint’s side as he let him go. “I’ll be there.”

~

Clint caught the apple Tony lobbed at his head and raised an eyebrow at him. Tony hadn’t really talked to him since the whole ‘punched by Phil for upsetting Clint’ thing. He seemed ashamed of himself. “Yeah?” Clint asked.

“Sooo. Natasha said you and Agent made out.”

Clint raised an eyebrow. “Married people do occasionally do that.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yeah, what happened to ‘faked his death for years’? Aren’t you pissed?”

“Well, yeah. I’m still pretty mad,” he said, then grinned, nodding at Tony’s black eye. “But he’s hot and a badass. I’m not divorcing him. May as well reap at least a little benefit.”

Tony snorted. “That’s the spirit. Get some.” He touched his puffy eye. “Even if he’s very violent.”

“Deserved it,” Clint commented and Tony grumbled.

“Yeah, I know. I’m an asshole. I’m sorry I pushed you.” He shuffled awkwardly. “Sucks, you know. What happened. And all that.”

Clint laughed. “Thanks, Man. So heartfelt.”

“Well what the hell, I don’t do Hallmark moments, whatever,” Tony said, walking out without another word. Clint chuckled and bit into the apple.

~

Clint hummed sleepily. “Garrett, huh?”

“Yep,” Phil mumbled, voice rumbling in his chest beneath Clint’s ear. “Bastard.”

Clint tilted his head, smiling up at Phil. “I’ve always thought he was a pompous asshole.”

“Should’ve trusted you,” Phil said, stroking Clint’s side tenderly. He sighed. “Should’ve done a lot of things differently with you.”

Clint curled even closer, sliding his leg over Phil’s. “Yeah, you should’ve.” He yawned. “This is not how I imagined this ending,” he said and Phil chuckled as he looked around.

Phil had come to Clint’s room to talk about what all had gone down in greater detail and, after slowly coming closer together on the couch until they were practically cuddling, Clint suggested Phil stay. They had moved to Clint’s bed and slowly ended up actually _in_ bed, curled up together. Phil had to be careful with his left side, but Clint was able to curl along his right side and settle his head on his husband’s chest, one of his old favorite positions. Clint had to admit, he was doing pretty terribly at the whole ‘be firm and angry’ thing when it came to Phil being back.

He hadn’t been held the way Phil held him in so long it was almost enough to make him cry. He felt so warm and loved and everything Phil always made him feel before his death. He didn’t want the night to end, because he wanted to keep Phil to himself for as long as possible. “I’m sorry,” Phil whispered, kissing the top of his head. “I thought I was protecting you, but I wasn’t.”

Clint grumbled unhappily. “Well, to be _fair_ , you did think you were an alien. I guess I can see how you didn’t want to accidentally go Alien on me. And then there was HYDRA and you didn’t want them to use me to get to you.” He stroked Phil’s side. “I’m not as upset as I would be if you had told all your people about me and still not did anything to let me know you were alive. I guess I can see how I would’ve did what you did to protect you if I needed to.”

“Don’t make excuses for me,” Phil said and Clint glanced up to see a sad smile on his lips. “I did something horrible in lying to you. I had reasons, yeah, but it’s still cruel.” He sighed. “The worst part is, I don’t know if I’d change it if I had a second chance.”

Clint felt a wave of renewed hurt and he let out a shuddering breath. “What?” he asked weakly.

“I kept you safe,” Phil said with a soft tone of conviction. “I hurt you, and I’m so sorry I did, but I have had nightmares of what could’ve happened to you if the people who we have faced knew that there was a man out there that was my world. They would’ve hurt you. They would’ve did everything they could to make me suffer. I feel so bad for hurting you, but you are here for me to hold, not dead in a grave somewhere.”

Clint hugged him closer, closing his eyes. “God, I don’t know whether to punch you or kiss you, you bastard.”

“Just hold me,” Phil said in an uncharacteristic moment of vulnerability. He tightened his arm around Clint. “Please don’t make me let you go.”

Clint shook his head, before tucking it under Phil’s chin. “Never, Phil. Nothing could make me let you go right now.”

~

For over a week, Clint stood out of the way as guard while Steve and Bucky spoke through the window. Most of the time he fucked around on his phone so he wasn’t actually listening in on them as they sat on either side of the glass, legs crossed under so their knees would be touching but for the glass between them. They sat talking, about everything, it seemed, for hours every single day. 

The day that they decided it would be safe enough to risk allowing Bucky out, they took every precaution. Natasha stood outside the cell with Steve’s SHIELD in case he needed it, Bruce was safely in another part of the city for the day, and Coulson’s team was prepared outside the hallway doors for containment, apart from May and Coulson, who were in the hall with them. Clint was there mostly for moral support, since he knew damn well that the Winter Soldier would kick his ass in close quarters where he couldn’t get a shot off. 

Tony – in his Iron Man suit apart from the helmet – was the one to open the door. “Alright Robocop, if you flip out, I’m gonna hurt you, okay?”

Bucky nodded. “Do whatever you have to if I start to hurt anybody,” he said far too seriously for everybody’s taste. 

However, the only thing that happened when Bucky walked out of his cell and turned to look at Steve was Bucky slowly breaking into a blinding smile as tears filled his eyes. “Stevie,” he said breathlessly and Steve took two big steps and threw his arms around Bucky.

“ _Bucky_ ,” he gasped and Bucky clung to him, squeezing him tight. “Oh God, you’re really real,” Steve cried.

Bucky turned his head and pressed a kiss to Steve’s jaw. “Steve, Stevie,” he laughed, curling his right hand into Steve’s hair as he pulled back and pressed his forehead against Steve’s. Steve took Bucky’s face in his hands and kissed him soundly, both of them clinging to each other.

Clint raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as they continued to kiss the crap out of each other for far longer than normal. “Uh, do they not have to breathe?” he murmured to Natasha, who snorted, putting a hand over her mouth.

“I guess it’s part of being a super soldier,” Phil suggested and Clint grinned, nudging his shoulder.

“On a scale of one to ten, how high is watching two super soldiers making out on your turn-on list, huh, Honey?” he teased. “Especially _Captain America_ and _Bucky Barnes_?” 

Phil narrowed his eyes at him. “Clint.” Tony and Natasha both looked at him suspiciously and Clint snickered.

When the kissing sounds became a bit over the top, Tony cleared his throat. “Hey, Capsicle, RoboSoldier, if you’re gonna have sex, please don’t do it in front of us all, okay? I could live my whole life without seeing Rogers mount his boyfriend in the middle of a hallway.”

Steve pulled away from Bucky, ears turning red as he seemed to notice their audience. Bucky, however, just laughed and hugged Steve, pressing a kiss to his cheek, nuzzling the side of his face. “It’s been over seventy years since I kissed Steve, you can take pictures for all I care. I’m not givin’ him up for anything just yet,” he said, looking at Steve with absolutely unguarded happiness, love, and adoration in his eyes. “This goddamn building could be falling down and I wouldn’t be too bothered, I’m so happy just where I am.”

Steve’s face lit up and he turned and kissed him again. “Aw, Buck.” He laughed, clinging to Bucky. “Never lettin’ you go again, Jerk. Nobody’s ever taking you away from me again. I’m about a minute away from wrapping you up in bubble wrap and keeping you in my room.”

Bucky smirked at him, sliding his hands down Steve’s arms as he tugged Steve’s wrists around him so Steve was holding him flush. “Only thing you gotta wrap me up in is your arms, Rogers.”

Clint actually let out an ‘awwww’. “That was fuckin’ adorable, man.” He looked at Phil. “Why don’t you ever say sweet stuff like that to me? Oh yeah, I forgot, because you’d rather let me think you’re dead.”

Tony shrugged, suit whirring at the motion. “Eh, he did ask you to hold him that night he slept in your room, that’s sorta sappy,” he said, and Clint stilled, turning to gape at him.

“YOU WERE LISTENING IN?!” Clint cried in shock and Steve gaped at Tony.

Bucky whistled. “Whoa, Fella, you’re probably gone die in a minute,” he said and Phil cleared his throat, turning his cold, calm, ‘Agent’ face on Tony.

“You bug your guests’ bedrooms?” he asked, and Tony nodded.

“Yup,” he said, lips popping on the ‘P’.

Phil eyed him without blinking. “You listened in on the conversation Clint and I had lying in his bed.”

Tony nodded. “Yeah, I mean, I wanted to know what was up, too.”

Phil tilted his head. “You actually thought it would be a good idea to listen in on Clint’s bedroom while he and his husband who haven’t seen each other in three years were in there together?”

Tony stilled, blinking a few times before he cleared his throat. “Oh. Um. I didn’t actually think about that,” he admitted and Bucky actually turned around in Steve’s arms to look at Tony like he was a jackass.

“You bugged a married couple’s bedroom and didn’t at any point think ‘I hope I don’t check in on them screwin’? Really?” he asked and Tony spluttered.

“Well it’s _Agent_! I don’t tend to think about Agent and sex together. Ever. I still have half a mind that he’s a robot for shits sake!” Tony defended.

Bucky looked over at them with an incredulous look on his face. “You mean to say you haven’t seen each other in three years and you were in _bed_ together and weren’t having sex?” he asked and Clint cleared his throat while Phil blushed slightly.

“Well.” He nodded at his left arm in a sling and his missing hand. “I’m still, you know, injured. Not to mention we’re…” he trailed off and looked at Clint, who cringed.

“We’re still working through some stuff.” He nodded to Steve. “I’m sure he could fill you in on the details, but long story short, the ‘three years’ thing is because this asshole died and got brought back to life but didn’t bother coming back to his husband and letting me know he wasn’t still dead. I’ve been mourning my late husband for three years and said husband has been off doing spy shit all this time.”

Bucky frowned at Phil, looking confused. “But… why would you do that? I only stayed away from Steve this long since I got my memories back because I was scared I might still snap into being that thing again if I saw him after they screwed with my brains so much. If I’d known it’d be safe, I’d have been back months ago.”

Clint gave Bucky a sarcastic smile. “Yeah, that’s the stuff we’re working through that I mentioned.”

Steve tucked his chin over Bucky’s shoulder, hugging him close. “Before you ask, yeah, none of us are very good people around here. Great at saving the world, bad at being normal humans.”

“And some of us aren’t even that great at saving the world,” Natasha commented, gesturing pointedly to Tony, who rolled his eyes and stomped off, suit clanging with each step.

“I swear to God, one or two buildings fall over and suddenly you’re a ‘hazard’ and a ‘threat to society’. Ungrateful bastards,” he grumbled until he turned the corner and they heard the doors swing open dramatically.

Clint cleared his throat and mockingly saluted Steve and Bucky. “You guys enjoy each other. I’m gonna get out of here before I have to witness it. Call me when you’re able to stop drooling over your dude thing, Rogers, we’ll talk about shit,” he said before turning and grabbing Phil’s hand to tug him along behind him as they left Natasha and May alone to deal with the whole ‘in case he snaps’ detail.

~

Clint made a frustrated sound as he turned to look at Steve, who was mostly doodling on his paper, too busy thinking about something – probably Bucky – to listen to what Phil had told them to do. “Hey, Steve. How d’you spell ‘substantial’?” he asked, rubbing a hand over his hair.

Steve looked up and frowned. “Uh, are you serious?”

Without looking up from the report he was already reading, Phil answered him. “S-u-b-s-t-a-n-t-i-a-l.”

“Oh okay so it’s i-a-l. I had it backwards,” Clint said, fixing his report.

Bruce looked at him and then looked around at the others, who seemed equally confused apart from Phil and Natasha. Clint noticed them and glanced down, shrugging a little. “I have trouble writing. I don’t read well either. I’m not stupid or anything,” he muttered defensively.

“No, you’re not,” Phil said firmly. “Clint, how many times to Nat and I have to tell you, you have nothing-“

“To be ashamed of, yeah, yeah, I know,” Clint repeated, scratching out another word on his form. “I hear it all the time even while you were dead, Phil. ‘You’re dyslexic, not dumb, so stop acting like it’,” he mimicked and Natasha punched him, making him let out an ‘ow’.

“I don’t sound like that,” she complained. 

Bruce looked at Clint in surprise. “You’re dyslexic? Why didn’t you say something?”

“Cause it’s not important. I can read, I just get letters mixed up sometimes. And you guys don’t need me to read _War and Peace_ , you need me to shoot stuff,” he said bluntly. “It can be a bitch though,” he admitted. “Sucks even worse since I’m deaf.”

Phil dropped the folder in his hands, looking across the table at him. “You’re _what_?” he asked in surprise. 

Clint looked up and nodded. “Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that. Bout a year ago when I was fighting the Russian mafia dudes that keep giving me trouble. I zigged when I should’ve zagged and now I’m mostly deaf in both ears.” He turned his head and pulled out a tiny beige thing from in his ear. “See? Little bitty hearing aids.” He put it back in, making a face when it shifted. “Stark made ‘em for me.”

Bruce nodded. “They’ll withstand an EMP even if nothing else does. That way he doesn’t have to worry about ending up unable to hear us in the field.”

Clint closed his folder and shoved it so it slid across the table to Phil. “There you go _Director_. Full report on the Winter Soldier killing a HYDRA dude on my roof.”

Phil forced a smile. “Clint, we’ve talked about this-“

“Oh, I’m sorry, _Director_ , but I don’t think it’d be fully impartial of you to use my first name when we’re doing something work related,” Clint said mockingly. “Even though I am no longer an employee of SHIELD.”

Phil sighed. “I know I deserve this. I know that. But it doesn’t make it any less ridiculous.”

“Almost as ridiculous as a man’s husband pretending he’s dead, perhaps?” Clint said, tilting his head with a dangerous smirk. “You’re right. Utterly ridiculous.” Natasha and Steve both snickered whereas Bruce awkwardly looked away.

“Clint, please,” Phil said softly, tone tinged with desperation.

Clint sighed, rubbing at his forehead. “I’m sorry, Honey,” he muttered. He stood up and gave Phil a tense smile before turning to walk away without another word. What he didn’t expect was for Phil to follow him. He had just shut the door when it opened again and Phil stepped out. “Look, I know, I shouldn’t do that stuff in front of others,” Clint started, but Phil shook his head, leaning against the wall in front of him.

“No, Clint. I understand.” He looked down. “I just can’t help thinking that this isn’t helping us any. I understand you still being angry and hurt, I really do. But I can’t stay here forever and I don’t want to leave with us still fighting like this,” Phil said, looking at him with desperation in his eyes. “I understand. I deserve everything you could possibly do to me. I know it is all totally justified and deserved and I accept I’m a terrible husband to you.” He shook his head. “But Clint, we don’t have time for this. Do you know how close I’ve come to being killed in the past few years?” Clint shook his head. “Let’s just say I’ve probably got a guardian angel somewhere working overtime.” He reached out, catching Clint’s hand in his, fingers loosely linked. “I don’t want to go back to fighting HYDRA with us still fighting. I know I don’t deserve to ask you to forgive me, but please don’t make me leave without anything but bitterness and guilt between us.”

Clint stepped closer, swallowing hard as he leaned against Phil, head on his shoulder. “I love you, Phil Coulson. You know that. I may give you a hard time, but don’t you ever doubt that deep down, you were forgiven the minute you walked through that door.” He closed his eyes, sliding his arms around Phil’s middle. “I got my husband back.” He turned his head and caught Phil’s lips, kissing him tenderly. “I’m sorry. I know, Phil. I know.”

Phil pressed their foreheads together and nodded. “I do, too. I know what I did. I know what I deserve. I just know how precious our time is with the knowledge of how ruthless these people operate.”

Clint nodded. “I’d say we’ve seen up close how ruthless they can be when it comes to Bucky.”

“They won’t just kill someone, they’ll make them wish they were dead, and I do not want that to happen to me knowing you’re still angry at me somewhere.” Phil touched Clint’s cheek. “I promise you, I’ll feel every ounce of regret I ever could for the rest of my life without you reminding me all the time.”

Clint laughed softly, a sad smile on his lips. “I don’t want you to feel like a shitty person for the rest of your life.” He pecked his lips and pulled back with a mischievous grin. “Just a few more months will work,” he teased and Phil laughed, shaking his head.

“Oh, okay. I’ll keep that in mind. In six months I’ll remember to stop feeling guilty,” he joked and Clint grinned.

“Sounds good to me.”

~

Bucky smiled as Steve tugged him down the hall by the hand. “Come on. There’s something I wanna show you.”

Bucky laughed, glancing back at Clint. “Is he always like this?” he asked, giving a playful cry when Steve dragged him around a corner, nearly knocking him off his feet. 

Clint chuckled, shaking his head. “Never seen ‘em like this,” he answered honestly. 

“Bucky!” Steve complained, tugging at his hand again.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. Keep your shirt on, Punk.”

Clint snickered. “Although as tight as that shirt is, those seams may not hold up too much longer.”

“Hey, don’t criticize the tight shirts, man,” Bucky said, winking back at him. “I really like it.”

Steve threw open two doors and spun around, holding his arms out as he walked backwards into the room. “Welcome to my studio! Now c’mon, Buck!” Clint and Bucky followed Steve into the large, open room with windows all along one side. “I just finished this,” Steve said, and they followed him to a corner and stepped up behind him on either side to look at the painting.

Clint couldn’t help the goofy smile that crossed his face when he saw that Steve had painted the whole team with an added Bucky standing on his right side, blended together seamlessly with the rest of them as a hero, not a prisoner, not a villain, but as one of them. “Awww, that’s so cute, Rogers.”

Bucky smirked and turned to Steve, reaching out to snag him by the waist, tugging him flush against him so their chests bumped together, making Steve stumble a bit at the sudden jerk. He looked up at Steve with a grin. “Hey Barton.”

“Yeah?” Clint asked.

Bucky leaned up closer to Steve’s lips, hands sliding around his middle until one rested right above his ass. “You might wanna scram just about now, if you know what I mean,” he said, and Clint saw the pink rising in Steve’s cheeks and realized with a groan exactly what Bucky meant.

“Aww, man, ew.” He put a hand over his eyes and headed for the doors. “DON’T DEFILE A NATIONAL TREASURE UNTIL I’M OUT OF HEARING RANGE, YOU DIRTY OLD BASTARD!” he cried as soon as the doors swung shut behind him.

“Run faster then!” Steve called and Clint laughed even as he made a face on his way down the hall.

When he got to the lounge, he stopped when he walked in on Phil’s team having a meeting. “Oh, hey, sorry guys.”

“Clint!” Skye said brightly. “What’s up, man? You getting in on this mission, too?” she asked.

Clint snorted. “No way, I’m just putting as much tower between me and super soldier’s having sex as possible.” Simmons choked on the water she’d just been sipping and Fitz overbalanced in his chair, yelping as he fell out into the floor.

“ _What_ did you say you’re doing, again?” Fitz asked as his head popped up over the arm of the couch and Mack reached out and gave him a hand, tugging him upright with ease before guiding him to sit on the couch beside him instead. “I think I misheard that.”

Clint laughed. “No, I definitely said super soldier sex.” He nodded at the hall. “Steve wanted to show me and Nat this painting he did, but he could only find me, so he dragged me and Bucky to his studio and it was a painting of Bucky as part of the team, like a celebration of not being a crazy brainwashed assassin anymore, and I was like ‘oh cool’ but his boyfriend was like ‘I’m gonna reward you with sex, get the hell out, Barton’ and I did,” he finished lamely. 

“Is that… safe?” Simmons asked, looking uncomfortable asking the question.

“I really doubt Captain America needs the condoms talk-” Clint started, and she tutted, rolling her eyes.

“Not _that_ , I mean should they really be risking something that… privately physical, without knowing for sure there aren’t any… other sorts of triggers?” she asked, grimacing at the awkwardness of her wording.

May snorted. “You think HYDRA gave the Winter Soldier a sexual trigger?”

“Well it’s possible!” Simmons argued. “When would Captain America be most defenseless if HYDRA had any idea of their relationship?”

Clint hesitated. “Actually… that’s not an invalid point,” he said, frowning worriedly. He glanced at Phil, who sighed, putting his face in his hand.

“JARVIS. I hate to do this to you, but can you keep an eye on Captain Rogers and make sure their… ‘activities’ don’t change into violence?” He made a panicked face. “Assuming you can tell the difference between actual violence and… the kind that’s consensual.”

Clint scoffed. “There is no world in which Steve Rogers likes it rough, I’m telling you that right now-“

“Thank you, Clint, I really needed to think about it that explicitly,” Phil interrupted, giving him a flat look.

Clint smirked. “Oh Honey, I know exactly how much you wanna think about _Captain America_ in full explicit detail. Remember that I know what kind of kinky roleplay you’re into-“

“Barton!” Phil hissed, and Clint cackled when Phil’s whole team, including May, looked at him in alarm.

Skye looked at him, clearly horrified. “You had to ruin my thoughts of naked Bucky Barnes with horrific thoughts about Coulson, didn’t you? You’re a terrible person, Clint.”

Clint winked with a smirk. “Hey, I’m the one that co-starred in those ‘horrific thoughts’, don’t be a jerk. Besides, you’ve clearly never seen Phil naked, Kid, if you had you wouldn’t be complaining-“

“Oh God, that’s just wrong,” Skye whined, slapping her hands over her ears. Clint just held his hands apart a good nine inches and smirked, making her let out a horrified sound and cover her eyes instead. “Why do you hate me?!” she cried in alarm.

Phil sighed, letting his head drop. “Oh God, Clint, please. I’m begging you. Just go away. We were having a real meeting before you derailed it with all this sex talk.”

“You’re the only man I know to have a penis that huge and _never_ wanna gloat about it, Phil, I swear to God-“

“CLINT!” Phil cried, flushing. “Oh my God, leave! Now!”

Clint gave him a bright, cocky grin and winked. “Sure thing, Honey. Have fun working with kids who can’t stop looking at your crotch!” he said, whistling a peppy tune as he walked away with his hands in his pockets and an evil glee in his eyes.

~

Clint stood with his arms crossed, watching as Coulson’s team all gathered up the last of the equipment they had left in various places in the tower (not to mention the shocking number of cardigans the two little science babies had managed to misplace around the tower) with trepidation. He was worried. He wasn’t too big of a man to admit that. 

They had gotten a message from one of the Koenigs that it was time to move to reclaim their base and save the SHIELD operatives who had been held there for the past three weeks, and Coulson wasn’t wasting a minute.

Clint watched him direct all the packing up and couldn’t stop worrying that maybe life really was as cruel as he had thought it to be and this was just one last taste of having his husband back before he lost him for good this time. 

“Phil?” Clint couldn’t help the surge of fear that rose up in him as he imagined this being the actual last time he ever saw Phil after getting used to him being alive again. 

Phil looked up at Clint, who had interrupted him speaking to May. “Yes?” he asked patiently.

Clint licked his lips nervously, tapping at his elbow. “Can I talk to you really quick?”

“Go,” May said, taking the tablet from the table Phil had it laying on since he couldn’t very well hold it and touch the screen with only one hand. “I’ll finish up. Wheels up in twenty, so make it quick,” she said, and Phil walked over to Clint, who nodded towards the door and led the way.

When they got out into the hall, Phil gave Clint a look and Clint took a shuddering breath. “Look just be careful, okay?” He looked down at his feet. “I’ve got some more being pissed at you left to do, you know? Kinda need you alive for that.” When he glanced up he saw a fond, loving smile on Phil’s face as he looked at Clint. “What? I do,” he muttered.

Phil shook his head, smiling wider. “It’s going to suck so much to not have you bickering at me anymore every time I turn around.”

Clint smiled reluctantly, rolling his eyes. “Hey, I’m really, very mad at you.”

Phil nodded seriously, eyes playful. “Yes, you’re definitely still super pissed.”

Clint narrowed his eyes. “I am,” he argued. “I really am still mad, Phil,” he sighed, adopting a nervous expression. “But I’m so fucking scared,” he whispered honestly. He swallowed, not breaking eye contact with Phil when his throat tightened. “I’m so scared this has just been one more way for God to fuck me over. I got you back for a few weeks and now you’re going to get killed by HYDRA for real this time. I’m- I’m terrified of you leaving.” He blinked hard, taking a grounding breath. “I can’t lose you again, Phil. I just can’t.”

Phil shook his head. “I’m not letting them get me that easily, okay? But at the same time, I can’t promise you I’ll come back,” he said and Clint nodded.

“I know,” he said softly, voice tense.

Phil gave him a small smile. “But I will never, ever voluntarily let anything keep me from you again, Clint. I’ll always come home to you from now on. If I’m alive, I’m going to find you and I’m going to be with you. I don’t care what happens, I don’t care where we are, I don’t even care if you want to be my husband anymore. I’ll make sure we’re together, in whatever capacity, no matter what. I’d go back to being just your friend again before I gave you up entirely.”

Clint shook his head, rolling his eyes at Phil. “You will never just be my friend again. You’re my husband. You’re the man I love. If I wanna keep you after this shit you pulled, nothing will ever make me change my mind over that. And if you decided you wanted to just be my friend again, I’d keep on loving you because, in my heart, I’ll always be your husband, even if you’re not mine.” He took a calming breath, eyes fluttering shut. “I just need you to come back to me, okay?”

Phil reached out and grabbed his hand. “I’m gonna try my hardest,” he promised.

Clint nodded as he looked up at Phil. “That’s as good as I can ask of you.” He pulled away and smiled sadly. “I better let you go. Don’t want May to come after me,” he joked.

Phil nodded, straightening his tie. “Yeah, she’s pretty excitable lately. Gets pissed at me a lot.”

“Yeah, well can’t blame here there,” Clint said, grinning. He nodded down the hall. “Go on. I can’t watch you leave. I need to go occupy myself somewhere else until after you’re gone.”

Phil smirked. “Aww, and I was hoping you’d wave a handkerchief and cry dramatically. Maybe run after my train to the end of the platform.”

Clint snorted, shoving Phil away from him lightly. “Oh fuck you, Coulson. Go get your ass on your plane.”

Phil laughed and nodded, turning to leave. When he got to the door, he stopped and looked back. “Hey Clint?” Clint waited and he nodded to him. “Thank you. For taking me back. Most people wouldn’t have.”

Clint shrugged, a warm feeling swirling in his belly. “Yeah, well, most people haven’t had so much experience with fucking up and having someone special give you chance after chance because he believes in you and knows you can do better. You’re the one who taught me that giving someone a second chance, or a third or fourth chance, isn’t always being stupid, it’s knowing when someone can actually learn and do better next time.” He smiled softly. “I know you, Honey. I know you’ll do better. I’d be a fool to not let you prove that to me after all the times you let me prove I’m worth it to you.”

Phil gave him a grateful look and nodded. “I won’t make you regret it,” he said with every ounce of meaning he could possibly put into his words, hesitating just long enough to take one last long look at Clint before he left.

Clint stood until the door clicked shut behind him before going the opposite direction.

~

Phil and his team had only been gone a few weeks when he came to a decision. He found Steve, who was, unsurprisingly, hanging out on the couch, sprawled across Bucky’s lap while Natasha painted his toes. “Hey, Steve.”

Steve looked up, big blue eyes as happy as he’d ever seen them. “Yeah?”

Clint flopped down beside Natasha, facing him. “You saw my tattoo, right? Before the skin graft thing got rid of it.” Steve nodded. “You’ve got an eidetic memory, right?”

“Yeah, I can still remember exactly what it looked like, if that’s what you’re asking,” Steve said, and Clint picked at his sleeve.

“Think you could draw it exactly how it was?” he asked, looking up at Steve. “Same handwriting and all?”

Steve shrugged. “Don’t see why not. Why? Wanna get it redone?”

Clint nodded. “It’s.” He hesitated, smiling bashfully. “It’s my version of a wedding ring.”

“Tolkien?” Steve asked in surprise. 

Natasha stopped painting his toes for a minute to look at him. “You’ve read Lord of the Rings already? When did you have the time?”

“I read The Hobbit back in the day and when I found out there were more books, that was like the first thing I did. I read when I was traveling places for the most part.” He looked at Clint. “You managed to read those with your problems reading?”

Clint blushed some and Natasha smirked. “Phil helped Clint out when he first joined SHIELD and then it sort of became their dorky ass thing. Whenever one of them was hurt, the other one would read to the other.”

Bucky nudged Steve. “What’s his tattoo say?” he asked and Steve looked at Clint curiously.

“ _Not all those who wander are lost_. What’s romantic about that?” he asked curiously.

“Cause when we married, we didn’t have a house, no home together, but we had each other so no matter where we were, we had a home somewhere out there in each other.” Clint smiled as he rubbed absently at his side. “Phil’s said _All that is gold does not glitter_ , because everybody says he’s plain and he’s meant to be forgettable and blend in and stuff, but to me he’s the most important person in the world. He doesn’t have to look like anything special for me to love him.” He shrugged. “Although, I think he’s really hot. But whatever.”

Bucky nodded. “Guy’s definitely hot. People are just crazy.”

Steve rolled his eyes, glancing at Bucky with a small grin. “You thought I was attractive when I was skinny and nearly died when I walked past an open window.”

Bucky tutted. “You were fuckin’ beautiful, Stevie.” He grabbed his chin in his metal hand, turning his face to Clint. “Exact same face, just on a smaller body. Big blue eyes looked even bigger, pouty lips were even poutier. He was skinny but this _face_ is the most gorgeous thing in the world no matter what body it’s attached to.” He tugged Steve back around and pecked his lips, making Steve giggle – seriously, he _giggled_ \- and blush.

Natasha smirked at Clint. “Rogers is a giant twelve year old with his first crush, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Bucky shot her a look. “Don’t be mean.” He smiled at Steve with a soppy look that made Clint wanna snicker. “We’re just real fuckin’ happy, is all.”

Clint rubbed at his side and smiled. “I’m not quite that happy, but… that’s why I want my tattoo again. I want to make up with my husband and I want to surprise him with me having my tattoo back.”

Steve nodded. “I’ll draw it up for you. I shouldn’t have much trouble with the handwriting being the same, I used to copy the paintings when we went to museums in my sketch book. Is it his handwriting?” he asked, and Clint ducked his head with a smile.

“Yeah, his is in my handwriting, too.”

Natasha made a face. “Sappy bastards.”

“Fuck off, you could do with a heart,” Clint accused. He hopped up and grinned. “Or at least a good fuck.”

Natasha shot him a look. “Oh, like you’ve gotten laid recently.”

Clint shrugged. “I’ve been depressed, that screws with your sex drive.” He stood up, slapping her thigh as he spun around the end of the couch. “Thanks, Steve, I’ll check in with you sometime.”

“Yeah, just give me a few days and I’ll get it for you,” Steve responded and Clint saluted as he headed off.

~

Clint didn’t hear from Phil for a week. It terrified him, because nobody else had heard from any of them and they were all afraid, but Steve finished re-drawing his tattoo and offered to go with him to get it redone, and he decided it didn’t matter what might’ve gone wrong, he was going to get his tattoo either way.

Steve sat and teased him when he flinched as the tattoo artist did his ink, and called Bucky so he could watch it all over the phone and cackle at Clint wincing. “Yeah, yeah, you get ta tattoo on your side and tell me how much of a wimp I am,” Clint said and Bucky hummed.

“Hey Steeevie,” he said and Steve turned the phone and raised an eyebrow at him. “Let’s get matching tattoos!”

Clint laughed, trying hard not to move too much for the guy tattooing him to handle. “Captain America with a couple tattoo,” Clint joked and Steve rolled his eyes at him.

“I don’t know if tattoos will last on me, Sorry.” He looked at Clint’s side, wincing. “Also, ow.”

“Don’t be a pussy, Steve,” Bucky said and Clint laughed so hard the tattoo artist had to stop and glare at him for a minute before he settled down again.

~

Clint hadn’t heard from Phil in nearly a month and he was terrified.

They had heard that SHIELD was successful in retaking their base, but that several people had been injured. Koenig wasn’t able to tell them details without secure lines, but Clint was so worried Phil had been hurt. He tried calling him but the line had been disconnected. Skye’s email only told him that everybody had lived and she couldn’t give more details over an unsecure server. He really hated modern technology and how hard it was to avoid being hacked and having messages intercepted. 

He was back home with Lucky one night when Bucky sent him a text that simply said,

_Your fellas coming here soon_

~

Clint broke at least fifteen traffic laws on his way to the tower, but when he got off the elevator and saw Phil talking to Pepper, he didn’t give a fuck. “Phil,” he breathed in a sigh of relief. Phil turned and Clint saw his eyes light up as Clint strode towards him purposefully. Clint ignored Pepper’s greeting as he grabbed Phil by the lapels and kissed him in lieu of words.

To his credit, Phil simply kissed back, pulling him firmly until their bodies were flush. When the kiss broke Clint let out a weak laugh. “I was so worried. I fucking hate technology,” he said and Phil laughed, nodding as he nuzzled into the side of Clint’s face, chasing his lips again.

After another long, slow kiss, Clint pulled away and Phil reached up to cup his face. “I hate technology, too,” he said, and Clint grinned.

Clint did a double take when he realized Phil had one hand on his waist and the other on his face “Phil, your-“ He caught Phil’s wrist, looking at his hand in surprise.

Phil nodded. “Yeah, I figured that tissue regeneration thing wasn’t such a bad idea. Doing things one-handed got annoying.” 

Clint smirked. “Nice. Now you can grab my ass with both hands,” he said with an eyebrow wiggle. 

Phil smirked, sliding his hands down Clint’s back slowly. “Oh yeah? Nice to know our priorities line up,” he said, hands cupping Clint’s ass as he held his heated gaze.

“Uh, guys?” Pepper interrupted, and Clint held up a finger.

“Just a minute,” he said, leaning in to kiss Phil again, much wetter and sloppier this time, moaning when Phil squeezed his ass at the same time he sucked on Clint’s bottom lip. When Phil let go of him, looking smug, Clint cleared his throat and turned to Pepper, ears burning. “Yeah, Pep?” he asked and she rolled her eyes.

“I was just going to remind you that we need to finish going over logistics, Phil. You and Clint can go catch up when we’re done,” she suggested.

Clint pouted at her. “But Pepperrrrr,” he whined, batting his eyelashes. “I haven’t talked to him in a month!”

“Actually,” Phil said, giving Pepper an apologetic look as he slid his arm around Clint’s waist, tugging him around. “You’re on your own, my plans for Clint don’t involve much talking and I don’t really care about logistics right now,” he said with a mischievous grin before turning and leading the way. Clint threw a smug look over his shoulder at Pepper, shrugging before slinging his arm over Phil’s shoulders, a bit of a skip in his step as they headed right back to the elevator.

~

Clint lay panting, staring at the ceiling while Phil laughed against his side. “Are you okay, Clint?” he asked, smirk obvious in his voice without even looking.

“How are you even able to talk,” Clint complained, blearily reaching for Phil, sliding his fingers through his hair when he met his head. “My God, you’re _fifty_ , I’m supposed to be the one wearing you out, Honey.”

Phil kissed along his ribs, making him shiver. “You complaining?” he asked and Clint grunted.

“Not in the slightest,” he said, finding Phil’s hand to lace their fingers together on his lower belly. Phil slid up his body, kissing along the outside of his arm as he went. Clint smiled at the happiness shining in Phil’s eyes as he rested his chin on Clint’s shoulder, looking him over. Clint rolled onto his side to face Phil, who curled a hand around his hip, just below his newly redone tattoo. Clint reached up and touched the lines at the corner of Phil’s smile, grinning. “You’re still the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” Clint muttered and Phil rolled his eyes.

“Come on, Barton. I’m an old man,” he said dismissively but Clint scoffed.

“Fuck that, Honey. You’re still fuckin’ beautiful.” He snuggled closer, pressing a kiss to Phil’s cheek. “You’ll still be hot as fuck when you’re wrinkly and bald.”

“Sooo now?” Phil asked, chuckling when Clint glared at him. Phil stole a quick kiss. “I’ve missed this. Just seeing you all quiet and carefree.”

“And whose fault is that?” Clint asked, making Phil sigh.

“You’ll never stop holding that over me, will you?” he asked and Clint rolled his eyes. “Yeah, didn’t think so.”

Clint smiled, eyes falling shut, and grabbed Phil’s hand, sliding it to rest on top of his tattoo. Phil had nearly teared up when he took Clint’s shirt off and found his wedding tattoo back where it was supposed to be. Clint had never been more confident in Phil’s feelings for him than in that moment when he reverently traced his fingertip over the words in Clint’s skin. Without prompting, Clint cracked up, startling Phil into pulling back and looking at him worriedly.

“You okay?” Phil asked with a small frown and Clint rolled onto his back, laughing even harder. “Uh, Clint?” Phil sat up on his elbow, looking down at him in concern. “What’s wrong?”

Clint gave him a grin, reaching out to touch the tattoo in his own handwriting on Phil’s side. “We’re such massive dorks, Phil. Jesus Christ, I’m in my forties and I have geeky words tattooed on me because that’s mine and my husband’s choice of ring replacement. We’re massive nerds.”

Phil gave him an amused look. “Well, seeing as my only other tattoo is a Captain America shield on my back and I’m a fifty year old secret agent, I’d say you’ve missed a lot if you hadn’t figured that out by now.”

Clint reached for Phil’s hand and tangled their fingers together, bringing it up to his lips. “God I love you. I know that’s something I say a lot lately, but it seems like no matter how often I say it, it never is strong enough to express how much you mean to me. I have no goddamn clue how I lived three years without you.”

Phil leaned in and brushed his lips across Clint’s tenderly. “I hope to God you never have to do it again. At least not for a very long time.”

Clint nodded, noses brushing against each other. “Me, too.”

When Phil smiled at him, the warmth Clint felt all the way to his fingertips was one so familiar, so comfortable, and so specifically ‘Phil’ that he finally felt that, after so long, he’d finally come home.


End file.
